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FESTUS: 

A  POEM 

BY 

PHILIP    JAMES    BAILEY, 

BARRISTER  AT  LAW. 


EIGHTEENTH  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


J^-*-*" 


BiriVBESIT 


TON: 


BAZIN      AND      ELLSWORTH, 

13  Washington  Street. 


96'J 


C37**f- 


riMXTED    BY 
JROE     C.     BAND     &     AVKEY. 


PREFACE 

TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITION. 


We  here  present  to  the  American  public  a  book 
which  has  produced  no  little  sensation  in  England, 
and  which  has  been,  for  some  time,  known  to  many 
in  this  country.  But  although  the  first  edition  was 
issued  six  years  since,  it  has  had  but  a  limited  cir- 
culation among  us;  and  it  is  believed  that  in  re- 
publishing "  Festus,"  we  not  only  perform  a  work 
which  its  merits  demand,  but  open,  for  the  first 
time,  to  many  who  will  appreciate  it,  a  great  and 
original  poem.  The  peculiar  value  of  the  second 
English  edition,  from  which  this  is  printed,  consists 
in  the  "  Proem,"  which  was  not  attached  to  the  first. 
Having  placed  at  the  end  of  the  volume  some  of 
the  highest  literary  opinions  in  England,  we  will 
not  intrude  any  analysis  of  our  own.  But  a  word 
upon  one  point.  With  many  minds,  it  will  be  diffi- 
cult to  acquit  the  author  from  the  charge  of  irrever- 
ence.   For  this  purpose,  we  refer  to  his  vindica- 

(3) 


tion  in  the  Proem  and  in  the  body  of  the  work ;  by 
which  the  reader  will  perceive  that  he  is  free  from 
irreverence  in  spirit,  whatever  question  there  may 
be  as  to  the  propriety  of  certain  forms  of  expres- 
sion. As  to  the  extravagances,  which  all  will  dis- 
cover, they  are  the  extravagances  of  deep  and 
eloquent  passion  —  the  luxuriant  overgrowth  of  a 
profoundly  rich  soil.  With  all  its  faults,  "Festus" 
is  a  great  poem — a  mine  of  thought  and  imagery. 
It  is  perfectly  safe  to  pronounce  it  one  of  the  most 
powerful  and  splendid  productions  of  the  age. 


DEDICATION. 


My  father!  unto  thee  to  whom  I  owe 

All  that  I  am,  all  that  I  have  and  can; 
Who  madest  me  in  thyself  the  sum  of  man 

In  all  his  generous  aims  and  powers  to  know, 

These  first-fruits  bring  I;  nor  do  thou  forego 
Marking  when  I  the  boyish  feat  began, 
Which  numbers  now  near  three  years  from  its  plan, 

Not  twenty  summers  had  imbrowned  my  brow. 
Life  is  at  blood-heat  every  page  doth  prove. 

Bear  with  it.    Nature  means  Necessity. 
If  here  be  aught  which  thou  canst  love,  it  springs 

Out  of  the  hope  that  I  may  earn  that  love 
More  unto  me  than  immortality ; 

Or  to  have  Strang  my  harp  with  golden  strings. 

1838. 


(6) 


PROEM. 


Without  all  fear,  without  presumption,  he 
Who  wrote  .this  work  would  speak  respecting  it 
A  few  brief  words,  and  face  his  friend  the  world; 
Revising,  not  reversing,  what  hath  been. 

Poetry  is  itself  a  thing  of  God; 
He  made  His  prophets  poets ;  and  the  more 
We  feel  of  poesie  do  we  become 
Like  God  in  love  and  power,  —  under-makers. 
All  great  lays,  equals  to  the  minds  of  men, 
Deal  more  or  less  with  the  Divine,  and  have 
For  end  some  good  of  mind  or  soul  of  man. 
The  mind  is  this  world's,  but  the  soul  is  God's ; 
The  wise  man  joins  them  here  all  in  his  power. 
The  high  and  holy  works,  amid  lesser  lays, 
Stand  up  like  churches  among  village  cots ; 
And  it  is  joy  to  think  that  in  every  age, 
However  much  the  world  was  wrong  therein, 
The  greatest  works  of  mind  or  hand  have  been 
Done  unto  God.    So  may  they  ever  be ! 
It  shows  the  strength  of  wish  we  have  to  be  great, 
And  the  sublime  humility  of  might. 

True  fiction  hath  in  it  a  higher  end 
Than  fact ;  it  is  the  possible  compared 
With  what  is  merely  positive,  and  gives 
To  the  conceptive  soul  an  inner  world, 
A  higher,  ampler,  Heaven  than  that  wherein 
The  nations  sun  themselves.    In  that  bright  state 

(7) 


8 


Are  met  the  mental  creatures  of  the  men 

Whose  names  are  writ  highest  on  the  rounded  crown 

Of  Fame's  triumphal  arch ;  the  shining  shapes 

Which  star  the  skies  of  that  invisible  land, 

Which,  whosoe'er  would  enter,  let  him  learn ;  — 

'T  is  not  enough  to  draw  forms  fair  and  lively, 

Their  conduct  likewise  must  be  beautiful ; 

A  hearty  holiness  must  crown  the  work, 

As  a  gold  cross  the  minster-dome,  and  show, 

Like  that  instonement  of  divinity, 

That  the  whole  building  doth  belong  to  God. 

And  for  the  book  before  us,  though  it  were, 

What  it  is  not,  supremely  little,  like 

The  needled  angle  of  a  high  church  spire, 

Its  sole  end  points  to  God  the  Father's  glory, 

From  all  eternity  seen ;  making  clear 

His  might  and  love  in  saving  sinful  man. 

One  bard  shows  God  as  he  deals  with  states  and  kings ; 

Another,  as  He  dealt  with  the  first  man ; 

Another,  as  with  Heaven  and  earth  and  hell; 

Ours,  as  He  loves  to  order  a  chance  soul 

Chosen  out  of  the  world,  from  first  to  last. 

And  all  along  it  is  the  heart  of  man 

Emblemed,  created  and  creative  mind. 

It  is  a  statued  mind  and  naked  heart 

Which  is  struck  out.    Other  bards  draw  men  dressed 

In  manners,  customs,  forms,  appearances, 

Laws,  places,  times,  and  countless  accidents 

Of  peace  or  polity:  to  him  these  are  not; 

He  makes  no  mention,  takes  no  compt  of  them :  — 

But  shows,  however  great  his  doubts,  sins,  trials, 

Whatever  earthborn  pleasures  soil  man's  soul, 

What  power  soever  he  may  gain  of  evil, 

That  still,  till  death,  time  is;  that  God's  great  Heaven 

Stands  open  day  and  night  to  man  and  spirit ; 

For  all  are  of  the  race  of  God,  and  have 

In  themselves  good.    The  life- writ  of  a  heart, 


Whose  firmest  prop  and  highest  meaning  was 

The  hope  of  serving  God  as  poet-priest, 

And  the  belief  that  He  would  not  put  back 

Love-offerings,  though  brought  to  Him  by  hands 

Unclean  and  earthy,  e'en  as  fallen  man's 

Must  be ;  and  most  of  all,  the  thankful  show 

Of  His  high  power  and  goodness  in  redeeming 

And  blessing  souls  that  love  Him,  spite  of  sin 

And  their  old  earthy  strain,  —  these  are  the  aims. 

The  doctrines,  truths,  and  staple  of  the  story. 

What  theme  sublimer  than  soul  being  saved  ? 

'T  is  the  bard's  aim  to  show  the  mind-made  world 

Without,  within ;  how  the  soul  stands  with  God, 

And  the  unseen  realities  about  us. 

It  is  a  view  of  life  spiritual 

And  earthly.    Let  all  look  upon  it,  then, 

In  the  same  light  it  was  drawn  and  colored  in; 

In  faith,  in  that  the  writer  too  hath  faith, 

Albeit  an  effect,  and  not  a  cause. 

Faith  is  a  higher  faculty  than  reason, 

Though  of  the  brightest  power  of  revelation, 

As  the  snow-headed  mountain  rises  o'er 

The  lightning,  and  applies  itself  to  Heaven. 

We  know  in  day-time  there  are  stars  about  us, 

Just  as  at  night,  and  name  them  what  and  where 

By  sight  of  science;  so  by  faith  we  know, 

Although  we  may  not  see  them  till  our  night, 

That  spirits  are  about  us,  and  believe, 

That,  to  a  spirit's  eye,  all  Heaven  may  be 

As  full  of  angels  as  a  beam  of  light 

Of  motes.     As  spiritual,  it  shows  all 

Classes  of  life,  perhaps,  above  our  kind, 

Known  to  tradition,  reason,  or  God's  word, 

Whose  bright  foundations  are  the  heights  of  Heaven. 

As  earthly,  it  embodies  most  the  life 

Of  youth,  its  powers,  its  aims,  its  deeds,  its  failings ; 

And,  as  a  sketch  of  world-life,  it  begins 


10  PROEM. 

And  ends,  and  rightly,  in  Heaven  and  with  God; 
While  Heaven  is  also  in  the  midst  thereof. 

God,  or  all  good,  the  evil  of  the  world, 
And  man,  wherein  are  both,  are  each  displayed. 
The  mortal  is  the  model  of  all  men. 
The  foibles,  follies,  trials,  sufferings  — 
And  manifest  and  manifold  are  they  — 
Of  a  young,  hot,  unworld-schooled  heart  that  has 
Had  its  own  way  in  life,  and  wherein  all 
May  see  some  likeness  of  their  own,  —  't  is  these 
Attract,  unite,  and,  sunlike,  concentrate 
The  ever-moving  system  of  our  feelings. 
The  hero  is  the  world-man,  in  whose  heart 
One  passion  stands  for  all,  the  most  indulged. 
The  scenes  wherein  he  plays  his  part  are  life, 
A  sphere  whose  centre  is  co-heavenly 
With  its  divine  original  and  end. 
Like  life,  too,  as  a  whole,  the  story  hath 
A  moral,  and  each  scene  one,  as  in  life,  — 
One  universal  and  peculiar  truth  — 
Shining  upon  it  like  the  quiet  moon, 
Illustrating  the  obscure  unequal  earth;  — 
And  though  these  scenes  may  seem  to  careless  eyes 
Irregular  and  rough  and  unconnected, 
Like  to  the  stones  at  Stonehenge, — though  convolved, 
And  in  primeval  mystery,  —  still  an  use, 
A  meaning,  and  a  purpose  may  be  marked 
Among  them  of  a  temple  reared  to  God:  — 
The  meaning  alway  dwelling  in  the  word, 
In  secret  sanctity,  like  a  golden  toy 
Mid  Beauty's  orbed  bosom.    Scenes  of  earth 
And  Heaven  are  mixed,  as  flesh  and  soul  in  man. 

Now,  the  religion  of  the  book  is  this, 
Followed  out  from  the  book  God  writ  of  old. 
All  creatures  being  faulty  by  their  nature, 
And  by  God  made  all  liable  to  sin, 
God  only  could  atone  —  and  unto  none 


PROEM.  11 

Except  himself — for  universal  sin. 

It  is  thus  that  God  did  sacrifice  to  God, 

Himself  unto  Himself,  in  the  great  way 

Of  Triune  mystery.    His  death,  as  man, 

Was  real  as  our  own ;  and  as,  except 

In  the  destruction  of  all  life,  there  could 

Be  no  atonement  for  its  sin,  while  life 

Doth  necessarily  result  from  God, 

As  thought  and  outward  action  from  ourselves, 

So  the  atonement  must  be  to  and  by  Him ; 

Which  makes  it  justice  equally  with  love; 

For  all  His  powers  and  attributes  are  equal, 

And  must  make  one  in  any  act  of  His ; 

And  every  act  of  God  is  infinite. 

He  acts  through  all  in  all :  the  truth  we  know, 

He  doth  Himself  inbreathe ;  the  ill  we  do, 

He  hath  atoned  for;  and  the  Scriptures  show 

That  God  doth  suffer  for  the  sins  of  those 

Whom  He  hath  made,  that  are  liable  to  sin. 

In  all  of  us  He  hath  His  agony; 

We  are  the  cross,  and  death  of  God,  and  grave. 

Him  love  then  all  the  more,  and  worship  Him 

Who  lived  and  died,  and  rose  from  death  for  us, 

And  is  and  reigns  forever  God  in  all. 

Let  each  man  think  himself  an  act  of  God, 

His  mind  a  thought,  his  life  a  breath  of  God; 

And  let  each  try,  by  great  thoughts  and  good  deeds, 

To  show  the  most  of  Heaven  he  hath  in  him. 

Many  who  read  the  word  of  life,  much  doubt 
Whether  salvation  be  of  grace  or  faith, 
Election,  or  repentance,  or  good  works, 
Or  God's  high  will:  reconcile  all  of  them. 
Each  of  the  persons  of  the  Triune  God 
Hath  had  His  dispensation,  hath  it  now; 
The  Father  by  His  prophets,  and  the  Son 
In  His  own  days,  by  His  own  deeds ;  and  now 
The  Spirit,  by  the  ministry  of  Christ; 


12  PROEM. 

And  thus,  by  law,  by  gospel,  and  by  grace, 

The  scheme  of  God's  salvation  is  complete. 

Salvation,  then,  is  God-like,  threefold ;  or 

That  under  one  or  other,  all  may  come ; 

By  will  of  God  alone,  by  faith  in  Christ, 

And  by  repentance,  and  good  works,  and  grace. 

So  there  is  one  salvation  of  the  Father, 

One  of  the  Son,  another  of  the  Spirit; 

Each,  the  salvation  of  the  Three  in  One. 

The  mortal  in  this  lay  is  saved  of  will, 

In  manner  as  this  hymn  unfolds,  which  hath 

Just  warranty  for  every  word  from  God's. 

0  God !  Thou  wondrous  One  in  Three, 

As  mortals  must  Thee  deem ; 
Thou  only  canst  be  said  to  be, 

We  but  at  best  to  seem. 
For  Thou  dost  save,  and  Thou  may'st  slay, 

Canst  make  a  mortal  soul 
In  Thee  eternal ;  in  a  day 

Wilt  bring  to  nought  the  whole. 

Thou  hardenest,  and  Thou  openest  hearts, 

As  in  Thy  Word  is  shown ; 
Thou  savest  and  destroyest  parts, 

By  Thy  right  will  alone. 
Let  down  Thy  grace,  then,  Lord !  on  all 

Whom  Thou  wilt  save  to  live ; 
Oh !  if  they  stumble,  stop  their  fall  I 

Oh !  if  they  fall,  forgive ! 

They  are  forgiven  from  the  first, 
They  are  predestined  Thine; 

And  though  in  sin  they  were  the  worst, 
In  Thee  they  are  divine. 


PROEM.  13 


They  are,  and  were,  and  will  be,  Lord ! 

In  one,  in  Heaven,  in  Thee, 
Yea  with  the  Spirit,  and  the  Word, 

One  God  in  Trinity. 


These  principles  and  doctrines  pending  not 

Upon  the  action  of  the  poem  here, 

But  over  and  above  it,  influencing 

Nevertheless  the  story,  as  the  course 

Of  stars  enwoven  with  our  system,  earth, 

Vary  the  view  of  this  life's  hemisphere, 

And  mingle  it  more  palpably  with  Heaven, 

And  with  its  changeless,  ceaseless,  boundless  God. 

It  is  thus  that  by  creating  to  and  from 

Eternity,  and  multiplying  ever 

His  own  one  Being  through  the  universe, 

He  doth  eternize  happiness,  and  make 

Good  infinite  by  making  all  in  Him. 

There  is  but  one  great  right  and  good ;  and  ill 

And  wrong  are  shades  thereof,  not  substances. 

Nothing  can  be  antagonist  to  God. 

Necessity,  like  electricity, 
Is  in  ourselves  and  all  things,  and  no  more 
Without  us  than  within  us ,  and  we  live, 
We  of  this  mortal  mixture,  in  the  same  law 
As  the  pure  colorless  intelligence 
Which  dwells  in  Heaven,  and  the  dead  Hadean  shades. 
We  will  and  act  and  talk  of  liberty ; 
And  all  our  wills  and  all  our  doings  both 
Are  limited  within  this  little  life. 
Free-will  is  but  necessity  in  play, — 
The  clattering  of  the  golden  reins  which  guide 
The  thunder-footed  coursers  of  the  sun. 
The  ship  which  goes  to  sea  informed  with  fire,  — 
Obeying  only  its  own  iron  force, 
Reckless  of  adverse  tide,  breeze  dead,  or  weak 


14  PROEM. 

As  infant's  parting  breath,  too  faint  to  stir 

The  feather  held  before  it,  —  is  as  much 

The  appointed  thrall  of  all  the  elements, 

As  the  white-bosomed  bark  which  wooes  the  wind, 

And  when  it  dies  desists.    And  thus  with  man ; 

However  contrary  he  set  his  heart 

To  God,  he  is  but  working  out  His  will; 

And,  at  an  infinite  angle,  more  or  less 

Obeying  his  own  soul's  necessity. 

He  only  hath  freewill  whose  will  is  fate. 

Evil  and  good  are  God's  right  hand  and  left. 
By  ministry  of  evil  good  is  clear, 
And  by  temptation  virtue ;  as  of  yore 
Out  of  the  grave  rose  God.    Let  this  be  deemed 
Enough  to  justify  the  portion  weighed 
To  the  great  spirit  Evil,  named  herein. 
If  evil  seem  the  most,  yet  good  most  is : 
As  water  may  be  deep  and  pure  below 
Although  the  face  be  filmy  for  a  time. 
And  if  the  spirit  of  evil  seem  more  in 
The  work  than  God,  it  is  but  to  work  His  will, 
Who  therefore  is  all  that  the  other  seems. 
And  evil  is  in  almost  every  scene 
Of  life  more  or  less  forward.    Above  all 
The  mystery  of  the  Trinity  is  held, 
Whose  mystery  is  its  reasonableness. 
All  that  is  said  of  Deity  is  said 
In  love  and  reverence.    Be  it  so  conceived 
What  comes  before  and  after  the  great  world,  — 
Deep  in  the  secretest  abyss  of  Light, 
And  Being's  most  reserved  immensity  — 
God  alone  knows  eternally,  who  rends 
The  mantling  Heavens  with  his  hands ;  but  with 
The  present  is  communion  creatural : 
He  liveth  in  the  sacrament  of  life. 
And  for  the  soul  of  man  delineate  here  — 
The  outline  half  invisible  —  is  shown 


PROEM.  15 

The  self-sought  grace,  the  self-aspiring  truth 
And  natural  religion  of  the  heart 
Contrasting  Godhood  with  humanity 
Ever;  whereas  the  Spirit  aye  unites. 
Temptation,  and  its  workings  in  the  heart 
Whose  faint  and  false  resistance  but  assists,  — 
Ambition,  thirst  of  secret  lore,  joy,  love  — 
Riverlike,  doubling  sometimes  on  itself — 
Adventure,  pleasure,  travel  heavenly 
And  earthly,  friendship,  passion,  poesie, 
Viewed  ever  in  their  spiritual  end  — 
And  power,  celestial  happiness  and  earth's 
Millennial  foretaste,  ill  annihilate, 
The  restoration  of  the  angels  lost, 
And  one  salvation  universal  given 
To  all  create,  —  all  these,  related,  form, 
With  much  beside,  the  body  of  the  work :  — 
The  islands,  seas,  and  mainland  of  its  orb. 

Thus  much  then  for  this  book.    It  aims  to  mark 
The  various  beliefs  as  well  as  doubts 
Which  hold  or  search  by  turns  the  mind  of  youth 
Unresting  anywhere.    Its  heresies, 
If  such  they  be,  are  charitable  ones;  — 
For  they  who  read  not  in  the  blest  belief 
That  all  souls  may  be  saved,  read  to  no  end. 
We  were  made  to  be  saved.     We  are  of  God. 
Nor  bates  the  book  one  tittle  of  the  truth, 
To  smoothe  its  way  to  favor  with  the  fearful. 

All  rests  with  those  who  read.    A  work  or  thought 
Is  what  each  makes  it  to  himself,  and  may 
Be  full  of  great  dark  meanings,  like  the  sea, 
With  shoals  of  life  rushing;  or  like  the  air, 
Benighted  with  the  wing  of  the  wild  dove, 
Sweeping  miles  broad  o'er  the  far  western  woods, 
With  mighty  glimpses  of  the  central  light  — 
Or  may  be  nothing  —  bodiless,  spiritless. 


1Q  PROEM. 

Now  therefore  to  his  work  and  to  the  world 
The  writer  bids,  God  speed !    It  matters  not 
If  they  agree  or  differ.    Each  perchance 
May  bear  true  witness  to  another  end. 
Let  then  what  hath  been,  be.    It  boots  not  here 
To  palliate  misdoings.    'T  were  less  toil 
To  build  Colossus  than  to  hew  a  hill 
Into  a  statue.     Hail  and  farewell,  all  I 


FESTUS. 


Scene  —  Heaven, 

God. 

Eternity  hath  snowed  its  years  upon  them; 
And  the  white  winter  of  their  age  is  come, 
The  World  and  all  its  worlds ;  and  all  shall  end* 
Seraphim.     God !  God !  God  ! 

As  flames  in  skies 

"We  burn  and  rise 

And  lose  ourselves  in  Thee ! 

Years  on  years  ! 

And  nought  appear? 

Save  God  to  be. 

God!  God!  God! 

To  us  no  thought 

Hath  Being  brought 

Toward  Thee  that  doth  not  move ! 

Years  on  years ! 

And  what  appears 

Save  God  to  love  ? 

God!  God!  God! 

All  Thou  dost  make 

Lies  like  a  lake 

Below  Thine  infinite  eye: 

Years  on  years ! 

And  all  appears 

Save  God  to  die. 
Cherubim.    As  sun  and  star, 

2  rm 


18  FESTUS. 

How  high  or  far, 

Show  but  a  boundless  sky ; 

So  creature  mind 

Is  all  confined 

To  show  Thee,  God,  most  High. 

The  sun  still  burns, 

The  sun  still  turns 

Bound,  round  himself  and  round ; 

So  creature  mind 

To  self's  confined, 

But  Thou  God  hast  no  bound  ! 

Systems  arise, 

Or  a  world  dies, 

Each  constant  hour  in  air ; 

But  creature  mind, 

In  Heaven  confined, 

Lives  on  like  Thee,  God!  there. 
Seraphim  and  Cherubim.    God!  God!  God! 

Thou  fill'st  our  eyes 

As  were  the  skies 

One  burning,  boundless  sun ! 

While  creature  mind, 

In  path  confined, 

Passeth  a  spot  thereon. 

God!  God!  God! 
Lucifer.     Ye  thrones  of  Heaven,  how  bright, 
how  pure  ye  are : 
How  have  ye  brightened  since  I  saw  ye  first ! 
How  have  I  darkened  since  ye  saw  me  last ! 
What  is  the  dark  abyss  of  fire,  and  what 
The  ravenous  heights  of  air,  o'er  which  I  reign, 
In  agony  of  glory,  to  these  seats  ? 
The  loathsome  cavern  of  the  oracle, 
O'er  which  ye  rise  in  templed  majesty, 
Filled  with  the  incense  of  all  worshippers, 
And  echoing  with  the  eloquence  of  God, 
Which  rolls  in  sunny  clouds  around  the  heavens. 
Yet  must  I  work  through  world  and  life  my  fate ; 
And  winding  through  the  wards  of  human  hearts, 


FESTUS.  19 

Steal  their  incarnate  strength.   Death  does  his  work 

In  secret  and  in  joy  intense,  untold, 

As  though  an  earthquake  smacked  its  mumbling  lips 

O'er  some  thick  peopled  city.     But  for  me, 

Exists  nor  peace  nor  pleasure,  even  here, 

"Where  all  beside,  the  very  faintest  thought, 

Is  rapture.     I  will  speak  to  God  as  erst. 

Father  of  spirit,  as  the  sun  of  air ! 

Beginning  of  all  ends,  and  end  of  all 

Beginnings,  throughout  whole  Eternity; 

From  whom  Eternity  and  every  power 

Perfect,  and  pure  cause,  is  and  emanates ! 

Originator  without  origin ! 

End  without  end !  Creator  of  all  ages, 

And  sabbath  of  all  Being ;  who  hast  made 

All  numbers  sacred,  who  art  all  and  one ! 

At  whose  right  hand  the  wisdom  of  all  worlds 

Combined,  is  only  fearful  foolishness 

Or  inarticulate  madness,  —  and  Thou,  Lord! 

Maker  and  Perfecter  of  all,  the  one ! 

Being  above  all  Being,  God  the  Life ! 

Who  art  the  way  whereon  the  world  proceeds 

From  God,  all-making,  and  whereby  returns 

The  ever  generated  universe!  — 

Who  rulest  all  worlds  in  the  law  of  light, 

Thy  nature  and  their  own ;  who  art  before 

All  ages,  angels,  blessed,  times  and  worlds ! 

Word  that  in  every  world  art  safe  to  save 

All  souls,  impregned  with  spirit,  God-begot! 

And  Thou  eternal  spirit-Deity ! 

The  sanctifier  of  the  universe ! 

Being,  and  Life,  and  spirit,  who  dost  make, 

Destroyest,  recreatest,  makest  God ! 

God  one  and  Trine !     Thou  seest  me  here  again ; 

Still,  sunlike,  though  eclipsed,  of  blinding  power 

And  fiery  cause,  and  everness  of  ill; 

Behold  I  bow  before  Thee ;  hear  Thou  me ! 

Gop. 
What  wouldst  thou,  Lucifer  ? 


20  FESTUS. 

Lucifer.  There  is  a  youth 

Among  the  sons  of  men  I  fain  would  have 
Given  up  wholly  to  me. 

God. 

He  is  thine, 
To  tempt. 
Lucifer.    I  thank  Thee,  Lord ! 
God. 

Upon  his  soul 
Thou  hast  no  power.     All  souls  are  mine  for  aye. 
And  I  do  give  thee  leave  to  this  that  he 
May  know  my  love  is  more  than  all  his  sin, 
And  prove  unto  himself  that  nought  but  God 
Can  satisfy  the  soul  He  maketh  great. 

Lucifer.   Thou  God  art  all  in  one !  Thy  infinite 
Bounds  Being.    Thou  hast  said  the  world  shall  end 
The  world  is  perfect,  as  concerns  itself, 
And  all  its  parts  and  ends;  not  as  towards  Thee. 
So  man  is  likest  and  unlikest  God, 
Of  all  existence ;  therefore  doth  as  much 
Resemble  Thee  as  any  act  a  mind. 
In  him  of  whom  I  ask,  I  seek  once  more 
To  tempt  the  living  world,  and  then  depart. 

The  Holy  Ghost.     And  I  will  hallow  him  to 
the  ends  of  Heaven, 
That  though  he  plunge  his  soul  in  sin  like  a  sword 
In  water,  it  shall  nowise  cling  to  him. 
He  is  of  Heaven.   All  things  are  known  in  Heaven, 
Ere  aimed  at  upon  earth.     The  child  is  chosen. 
Saints.  Another  soul 

The  Holy  one 
Hath  chosen  out  of  earth ; 
And  there  is  none 
Throughout  the  whole 
Like  worthy  of  his  birth. 
Guardian  Angel.      Oh !  who  hath  joy  like 
mine  ?  was  I  not  here 
When  from  Thy  boundless  bosom,  as  a  star 
Out  of  the  air,  that  soul  was  kindled,  Lord  ! 


FESTUS.  21 

And  given  to  me  to  guard  and  guide  —  while  both, 

Mid  starry  strains  out  of  the  depths  of  Heaven, 

Fell  at  Thy.  feet  in  worship  ?  — joy  of  joys  ! 

To  you,  ye  saints  and  angels,  let  me  speak ; 

For  ye  I  see  rejoice  with  me.     Ye  know 

What  'tis  to  triumph  o'er  temptation,  what 

To  fall  before  it ;  how  the  young  spirit  faints  — 

The  virgin  tremor,  the  heart's  ebb  and  flow, 

When  first  some  vast  temptation  calmly  comes 

And  states  itself  before  it,  like  the  sun 

Low  looming  in  the  west,  above  the  wave 

Of  wimpling  streamlet,  ere  its  waters  grow 

To  size  aortal.     Than  the  Fiend  himself 

There  is  no  greater  evil.     Less  the  shame 

Of  yielding,  more  the  glory  of  conquering, 

In  him,  to  whom  he  goes,  this  soul  elect. 

From  infancy  through  childhood,  up  to  youth, 

Have  I  this  soul  attended  ;  marked  him  blest 

With  all  the  sweet  and  sacred  ties  of  life  ;  — 

The  prayerful  love  of  parents,  pride  of  friends, 

Prosperity,  and  health  and  ease,  the  aids 

Of  learning,  social  converse  with  the  good 

And  gifted,  and  his  heart  all-lit  with  love, 

Like  to  the  rolling  sea  with  living  light ;  — 

Hopeful  and  generous  and  earnest ;  rich 

In  commune  with  high  spirits,  loving  truth 

And  wisdom  for  their  own  divinest  selves : 

Tracking  the  deeds  of  the  world's  glory,  or 

Conning  the  words  of  wisdom,  Heaven-inspired, 

As  on  the  soul,  in  pure  effectual  ray, 

The  bright,  transparent  atoms,  thought  by  thought, 

Fall  fixed  for  evermore.     And  thus  his  days, 

Through  sunny  noon,  or  mooned  eve,  or  night 

Star-armied,  shining  through  the  deathless  air, 

All  radiantly  elapsed,  in  good  or  joy. 

All  this,  for  long,  I  marked.    There  grew  at  length, 

A  change  within  his  spirit ;  and  I  feared 

A  fatal  and  a  final  fall  from  good. 

God's  love  seemed  lost  upon  him.    He  became 


22  FESTUS. 

Heart-deadened.     Watching,  warning,  vam,  I  fled 

Hither  to  intercede  with  God  our  Lord, 

To  bless  him  with  salvation.     We  may  plead 

Alway  for  those  we  love,  by  leave  divine. 

Nor  knew  I  till  this  moment,  with  all  Heaven, 

That,  in  the  righteous  providence  of  God, 

That  soul  was  saved.     Thou  knowest,  Lord !  the 

mould 
Of  mortals,  and  the  infinite  end  whereto 
The  souls  Thou  savest  are  predestinate  ; 
Oh  !  be  Thy  mercy  mighty  to  this  soul, 
Fiend-threatened ;  nor  permit  him  who  presides 
O'er  Hell's  eternal  holocaust,  too  far 
To  tempt  or  tamper  with  the  heart  of  man  !  — 

God. 
My  mercy  doth  outstretch  the  universe  ; 
Shall  it  not  be  sufficient  for  one  soul  ? 

Lucifer.    I  am  the  wrath  of  God  unto  myself, 
And  made  by  Him  to  do  my  part.     Do  thou 
Thine  !  they  are  far  enough  apart  I  ween. 

Guardian  Angel.     The  heaven-strung  chords 
of  man's  immortal  soul 
Are  not  for  thee  to  wither  at  thy  will. 
Bear  witness,  all  ye  blessed,  to  the  word  ;  — 
Angels,  intelligences,  sons  of  God ! 
Ye  who  know  nought  but  truth,  feel  nought  but 

love, 
Will  nought  but  bliss,  do  nought  but  righteousness ! 
Whose  life  was  ere  the  Heavens  were  conceived, 
The  stars  begotten,  or  the  ages  born  ; 
Ye  many  ordered  hierarchies,  which  are 
The  love,  truth,  justice,  majesty,  and  might, 
Dominion,  glory,  wisdom,  bliss  of  God  ; 
Ye  through  whose  ministry  of  mercy  —  His 
Immediate,  ever  instant,  active,  all 
Spirits  and  worlds  are  governed  —  age  by  age 
Gazing  and  gaining  glory ;  ye  who  stand, 
Stirless,  before  the  throne,  entranced  in  joy ; 
Or  ye,  whose  life  is  to  present  all  souls 


FESTUS.  23 

Reborn  to  their  Creator ;  or  to  search 

The  golden  globed  skies  for  deeds  of  grace  ; 

And  ye  who  move  all  Heavens,  in  whose  names 

The  name  of  God  is,  as  in  angels'  all ; 

The  crown,  the  wisdom,  the  intelligence, 

Kindness,  and  strength  and  beauty,  splendor,  worth, 

Original  and  rule  ;  and  ye  who  move 

Restless  around  the  throne,  the  burning  seven, 

The  virtue,  power,  salvation,  fire,  and  rest, 

Blessing  and  praise  of  God  ;  and  ye  who  rule 

Regions  or  kingdoms,  states,  tribes,  families, 

Ages  and  times,  and  seasons,  and  events ; 

Systems  and  elements,  material  powers, 

Mental  and  spiritual ;  or  ye  who  bear 

Souls  from  the  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven, 

Ye  tenants  of  the  archetypal  worlds 

And  spiritual  spheres ;  and  you,  ye  saints  ! 

Freed  once  on  earth  into  the  liberty 

Of  the  necessity  which  is  of  God  ; 

Ifrmrs  are  the  many  multitudes  of  stars, 

And  bliss  and  power  for  ever,  ye  are  gods  ! 

And  live  an  endless  life,  bespoken  here  ; 

Bear  witness,  all,  that  happiness  succeeds 

To  godliness  ;  and  that,  despite  of  sin, 

The  world  may  recognize  in  all  time's  scenes, 

Though  belts  of  clouds  bar  half  its  burning  disk, 

The  overruling,  overthrowing  power, 

Which  by  our  creature  purposes  works  out 

Its  deeds,  and  by  our  deeds  its  purposes. 

Lucifer.     God  !  for  thy  glory  only  can  I  act, 
And  for  thy  creatures'  good.    When  creatures  stray 
.Farthest  from  Thee,  then  warmest  towards  them 

burns 
Thy  love,  even  as  yon  sun  beams  hotliest  on 
The  earth  when  distant  most. 
God. 

The  earth  whereon 
He  dwells,  this  grain  selected  from  the  sands 
Of  life,  dies  with  him. 


24  FESTUS. 

Lucifer.  God !  I  go  to  do 

Thy  will. 

God. 
Thou,  too,  who  watchest  o'er  the  world 
Whose  end  I  fix,  prepare  to  have  it  judged. 

Angel    of    Earth.     Let  me  not  then  have 
watched  o'er  it  in  vain. 
From  age  to  age,  from  hour  to  hour  I  still 
Have  hoped  it  would  grow  better  —  hope  so  now : 
'T  is  better  than  it  once  was,  and  hath  more 
Of  mind  and  freedom  than  it  ever  had. 
I  love  it  more  than  ever.     Thou  didst  give 
It  to  me  as  a  child.     To  me  earth  is 
Even  as  the  boundless  universe  to  Thee ; 
Nay,  more !  for  Thou  couldst  make  another.    It  is 
My  world.     Take  it  not  from  me,  Lord !    Thou, 

Christ, 
Mad'st  it  the  altar  where  thou  offeredst  up 
Thyself  for  the  creation.     Let  it  be 
Immortal  as  Thy  love.     And  altars  are  » 

Holy  ;  and  sister  angels,  sister  orbs 
Hail  it  afar  as  such.     Oh  !  I  have  heard 
World  question  world  and  answer ;  seen  them  weep 
Each  other  if  eclipsed  for  one  red  hour, 
And  of  all  worlds  most  generous  wa3  mine, 
The  tenderest  and  the  fairest. 

Lucifer.  Knowest  thou  not 

God's  son  to  be  the  brother  and  the  friend 
Of  spirit  everywhere  ?  Qr  hath  thy  soul 
Been  bound  for  ever  to  thy  foolish  world  ? 

Angel.     Star  unto  star  speaks  light,  and  world 
to  world 
Repeats  the  password  of  the  universe 
To  God ;  the  name  of  Christ  —  the  one  great  word 
Well  worth  all  languages  in  earth  or  Heaven. 

Son  of  God.     Think  not  I  lived  and  died  fo* 
thine  alone, 
And  that  no  other  sphere  hath  hailed  me  Christ. 
My  life  is  ever  suffering  for  love. 


FESTUS.  25 

In  judging  and  redeeming  worlds  is  spent 
Mine  everlasting  being. 

Lucifer.  Earth  lie  next 

Will  judge ;  for  so  saith  God. 

Angel  of  Earth.  Be  it  not,  Lord  ! 

Thou  art  a  God  of  goodness  and  of  love  ; 
He  is  the  evil  of  the  universe, 
And  loveth  not  the  earth,  Thy  Son,  nor  Thee. 
Thou  knowest  best. 

Lucifer.  Behold  now  all  yon  worlds ! 

The  space  each  fills  shall  be  its  successor. 
Accept  the  consolation ! 

Angel  of  Earth.  Earth  !  oh,  Earth 

Lucifer.    'Tis  earth  shall  lead  destruction  ;  she 
shall  end. 
The  stars  shall  wonder  why  she  comes  no  more 
On  her  accustomed  orbit,  and  the  sun 
Miss  one  of  his  eleven  of  light ;  the  moon, 
An  orphan  orb,  shall  seek  for  earth  for  aye, 
Through  time's  untrodden  depths  and  find  her  not ; 
No  more  shall  morn,  out  of  the  holy  east, 
Stream  o'er  the  amber  air  her  level  light ; 
Nor  evening,  with  the  spectral  fingers,  draw 
Her  star-sprent  curtain  round  the  head  of  earth ; 
Her  footsteps  never  thence  again  shall  grace 
The  blue  sublime  of  heaven.     Her  grave  is  dug. 
I  see  the  stars,  night-clad,  all  gathering 
In  long  and  dark  procession.     Death 's  at  work. 
And,  one  by  one,  shall  all  yon  wandering  worlds, 
Whether  in  orbed  path  they  roll,  or  trail, 
In  an  inestimable  length  of  light, 
Their  golden  train  of  tresses  after  them, 
Cease ;  and  the  sun,  centre  and  sire  of  light, 
The  keystone  of  the  world-built  arch  of  heaven, 
Be  left  in  burning  solitude.     The  stars, 
Which  stand  as  thick  as  dewdrops  on  the  fields 
Of  heaven,  and  all  they  comprehend,  shall  pass. 
The  spirits  of  all  worlds  shall  all  depart 
To  their  great  destinies  ;  and  thou  and  I, 


26  FESTUS. 

Greater  in  grief  than  worlds,  shall  live  as  now. 
In  hell's  dark  annals  there  is  something  writ, 
Which  shall  amaze  man  yet.     There  !  to  thy  earth ! 

Angel  of  Earth.  There  is  a  blind  world,  yet 
unlit  by  God, 
Rolling  around  the  extremest  edge  of  light ; 
Where  all  things  are  disaster  and  decay, 
The  outcast  of  all  being ;  no  one  thing 
Fitting  another  :  that  is  fit  for  thee. 
Be  that  thy  world  !  but  not  the  living  earth. 
Stretch  forth   Thy   shining  shield,   oh   God !   the 

heavens, 
Over  the  prostrate  earth,  an  armed  friend, 
And  save  her  from  the  swift  and  violent  hell 
Her  beauty  hath  enchanted !  from  the  wrath 
Of  love  like  his,  oh  save  her,  though  by  death  ! 

God. 
Destruction  and  salvation  are  the  hands 
Upon  the  face  of  time.     When  both  unite, 
The  day  of  death  dawns.     Every  orb  exists 
Unto  its  preappointed  end  :  and  earth, 
My  creature,  the  elect  of  worlds,  ere  all 
Is  saved.     The  world  shall  perish  as  a  worm 
Upon  destruction's  path ;  the  universe 
Evanish  like  a  ghost  before  the  sun, 
Yea  like  a  doubt  before  the  truth  of  God, 
Yet  nothing  more  than  death  shall  perish.     Then, 
Rejoice  ye  souls  of  God,  regenerate, 
Ye  indwellers  divine  of  Deity  ; 
In  Him  ye  are  immortal  as  Himself! 

Son  of  God.     O'er  all  things  are  eternity  and 
change, 
And  special  predilection  of  our  God. 
Thou  who  Greatest  souls,  as  the  sun  clouds, 
Out  of  the  sea  of  spirit,  sire  of  both 
The  first  and  second  natures  of  Thy  Son, 
In  whom  the  maker  and  the  made  make  one, 
Deific  spirit !  who  in  every  world 
Payeth  creation's  penalties ;  in  all, 


FESTUS.  27 

Is  heir  of  God  and  nature,  and  in  Thee, 

And  in  self-worship,  Deifies  himself ! 

And  you  blest  spirits  for  whom  I  died,  for  whom, 

Forefated,  fore-atoned  for  from  the  first, 

All  heaven  reserves  the  fulness  of  its  bliss  ; 

Creator  and  created  !  witness,  both, 

How  I  have  loved  ye,  as  God-natured  life 

Alone  can  love  and  suffer  !     Let  the  earth 

And  every  orb,  the  offspring  of  all  air, 

Perish ;  but  all  I  die  for,  live  for  me. 

God. 
The  earth  shall  not  be  when  her  sabbath  ends, 
In  the  high  close  of  order. 

Lucifer.     Heaven,  farewell ! 
Hell  is  more  bearable  than  nothingness. 

Thrones.     Thou,  God,  art  Lord  of  mercy !  and 
Thy  thoughts 
Are  high  above  the  star-dust  of  the  world ! 

Dominations.     Yet    o'er    the    meanest    atom 
reignest  Thou 
Omnipotent  as  o'er  the  universe  ! 

Powers.     Thy  might  is  self-creative,  and  Thy 
works, 
Immortal,  temporal,  destructible, 
Are  ever  in  Thy  sight  and  blessed  there  ! 
The  heavens  are  Thy  bosom,  and  Thine  eye 
Is  high  o'er  all  existence  ;  yea  the  worlds 
Are  but  Thy  shining  foot-prints  upon  space  ! 

Princedoms.    Eternal  Lord  !  Thy  strength  com- 
pels the  worlds, 
And  bows  the  heads  of  ages  ;  at  Thy  voice 
Their  unsubstantial  essence  wears  away. 

Virtues.     All-favoring  God!   we  glory  but  in 
Thee. 
Ye  Heavens  exalt,  expand  yourselves !  they  come, 
The  infinite  generations,  all  Divine, 
Of  Deity,  our  brethren  and  our  friends  ! 

Archangels.    Thou  who  hast  thousand  names, 
as  night  hath  stars, 


28  FESTUS. 

Which  light  Thee  up  to  eye  create,  yet  not 
One  thousandth  part  illumine  Thy  boundlessness, 
Nor  that  abyss  of  Being  'midst  of  which 
Thy  countless  wonders  constellate  themselves; 
Thy  light,  the  light  we  dwell  in  shall  at  last 
Fulfil  the  universe,  and  all  be  bliss ; 
The  consummation  of  all  ages  come. 
We  praise  Thee  for  Thy  mercies,  and  for  this, 
The  first,  and  last,  and  greatest  of  all  boons. 
Angels.     Thee  God  !  we  praise 

Through  our  ne'er  sunsetting  days, 

And  Thy  just  ways, 

Divine : 

In  Thy  hand  is  every  spirit, 

And  the  meed  the  same  may  merit ; 

All  which  all  the  worlds  inherit 

Are  Thine ! 

It  is  not  unto  creatures  given 

To  scale  the  purposes  of  Heaven, 

Alway  just  and  kind ; 

But  before  Thy  mighty  breath, 

Life  and  spirit,  dust  and  death, 

The  boundless  All  is  driven, 

Like  clouds  by  wind. 
Angel  of  Earth.  Woe !  woe  at  last  in  Heaven ! 

Earth  to  death  is  given ; 

The  ends  of  things  hang  still 

Over  them  as  a  sky  ; 

Do  what  we  will, 

All 's  for  eternity ! 


Scene — Wood  and  Water — Sunset. 

Eestus  alone. 

Festus.     This  is  to  be  a  mortal  and  immortal ! 
To  live  within  a  circle,  —  and  to  be 
That  dark  point  where  the  shades  of  all  things  around 


FESTUS.  29 

Meet,  mix,  and  deepen.     All  tilings  unto  me 

Show  their  dark  sides !  somewhere  there  must  be 

Oh !  1  feel  like  a  seed  in  the  cold  earth ;  <       [light. 

Quickening  at  heart,  and  pining  for  the  air ! 

Passion  is  destiny.     The  heart  is  its  own 

Fate.     It  is  well  youth's  gold  rubs  off  so  soon. 

The  heart  gets  dizzy  with  its  drunken  dance, 

And  the  voluptuous  vanities  of  life 

Enchain,  enchant,  and  cheat  my  soul  no  more. 

My  spirit  is  on  edge.     I  can  enjoy 

Nought  which  has  not  the  honied  sting  of  sin  ; 

That  soothing  fret  which  makes  the  young  untried, 

Longing  to  be  beforehand  with  their  nature, 

In  dreams  and  loneness  cry,  they  die  to  live ; 

That  wanton  whetting  of  the  soul,  which  while 

It  gives  a  finer,  keener  edge  for  pleasure, 

Wastes  more  and  dulls  the   sooner.     Rouse  thee, 

heart; 
Bow  of  my  life  thou  yet  art  full  of  spring ! 
My  quiver  still  hath  many  purposes. 
Yet  what  is  worth  a  thought  of  all  things  here  ? 
How  mean,  how  miserable  every  care ! 
How  doubtful,  too,  the  system  of  the  mind ! 
And  then  the  ceaseless,  changeless,  hopeless  round 
Of  weariness  and  heartlessness  and  woe 
And  vice  and  vanity !     Yet  these  make  life ; 
The  life  at  least  I  witness  if  not  feel. 
No  matter !  we  are  immortal.     How  I  wish 
I  could  love  men  !  for  amid  all  life's  quests 
There  seems  but  worthy  one  —  to  do  men  good. 
It  matters  not  how  long  we  live  but  how. 
For  as  the  parts  of  one  manhood  while  here 
We  live  in  every  age  :  we  think  and  feel 
And  feed  upon  the  coming  and  the  gone 
As  much  as  on  the  now  time.     Man  is  one : 
And  he  hath  one  great  heart.     It  is  thus  we  feel, 
With  a  gigantic  throb  athwart  the  sea, 
Each  others'  rights  and  wrongs ;  thus  are  we  men. 
Let  us  think  less  of  men  and  more  of  God ! 


30  FESTUS. 

Sometimes  the  thought  comes  swiftening  over  us, 
Like  a  small  bird  winging  the  still  blue  air ; 
And  then  again,  at  other  times,  it  rises 
Slow,  like  a  cloud  which  scales  the  skies  all  breath- 
less, 
And  just  over  head  lets  itself  down  on  us. 
Sometimes  we  feel  the  wish  across  the  mind 
Rush,  like  a  rocket  tearing  up  the  sky, 
That  we  should  join  with  God  and  give  the  world 
The  slip :  but  while  we  wish,  the  world  turns  round, 
And  peeps  us  in  the  face  —  the  wanton  world  ; 
We  feel  it  gently  pressing  down  our  arm  — 
The  arm  we  had  raised  to  do  for  truth  such  wonders ; 
We  feel  it  softly  bearing  on  our  side  — 
We  feel  it  touch  and  thrill  us  through  the  body  — 
And  we  are  fools  and  there 's  an  end  of  us. 
'Tis  a  fine  thought  that  sometime  end  we  must. 
There  sets  the  sun  of  suns !  dies  in  all  fire, 
Like  Asher's  death-great  monarch.    God  of  might ! 
We  love  and  live  on  power.     It  is  spirit's  end. 
Mind  must  subdue.     To  conquer  is  its  life. 
Why  mad'st  Thou  not  one  spirit,  like  the  sun, 
To  king  the  world  '?     And  oh !  might  I  have  been 
That  sun-mind,  how   I  would   have   warmed  the 

world 
To  love  and  worship  and  bright  life  ! 

Lucifer,  suddenly  appearing.  Not  thou  I 

Hadst  thou  more  power  the  more  wouldst  thou  mis- 
use. 
Festus.     Who  art  thou,  pray  ?     I  saw  thee  not 
before. 
It  seems  as  thou  hadst  grown  out  of  the  air. 

Lucifer.     Thou   knowest   me   well.      Though 
stranger  to  thine  eye, 
I  am  not  to  thy  heart. 
Festus.  I  know  thee  not. 

Lucifer.     Come  nearer !   Look  on  me !  I  am 
above  thee ; 
Beneath  thee,  and  around  thee,  and  before  thee. 


FESTUS.  31 

Festus.     Why,  art  thou  all  things,  or  dost  go 
through  all  ? 
A  spirit,  or  embodied  blast  of  air  ? 
I  feel  thou  art  a  spirit. 

Lucifer.  Yea  I  am. 

Festus.     I  knew  it !  I  am  glad,  yet  tremble  so. 
What  hours  upon  hours  have  1  longed  for  this, 
And  hoped  that  thought  or  prayer  might  produce ! 
I  have  besought  the  stars,  with  tears,  to  send 
A  power  unto  me ;  and  have  set  the  clouds 
Until  I  thought  I  saw  one  coming :  but 
The  shadowy  giant  alway  thinned  away, 
And  I  was  fated  unimmortalized. 
What  shall  I  do  ?     Oh !  let  me  kneel  to  thee  ! 

Lucifer.     Nay,  rise  !  and  I'll  not  say,  for  thine 
own  sake, 
That  thou  dost  pray  in  private  to  the  Devil. 

Festus.     Father  of  lies  thou  liest ! 

Lucifer.  I  am  he  ! 

It  is  enough  to  make  the  Devil  merry, 
To  think  that  men  call  on  me  momently, 
Deeming  me  ever  dungeoned  fast  in  Hell ; 
Swearers  and  swaggerers  jeer  at  my  name  ; 
And  oft  indeed  it  is  a  special  jest 
With  witling  gallants.     Let  me  once  appear  ! 
Woe 's  me  !  they  faint  and  shudder  —  pale  and  pray ; 
The  burning  oath  which  quivered  on  the  lip, 
Starts  back  and  sears  and  blisters  up  the  tongue  ; 
Confusion  ransacks  the  abandoned  heart, 
Quells  the  bold  blood,  and  o'er  the  vaulted  brow 
Slips  the  white  woman-hand.     To  judgment,  ho  ! 
The  very  pivot  of  the  earth  seems  snapped; 
And  down  they  drop  like  ruins  to  repent. 
Such  be  the  bravery  of  mighty  man  ! 

Festus.   I  must  be  mad ;  or  mine  eye  cheats  my 
brain ; 
And  this  strange  phantom  comes  from  overthought, 
Like  the  white  lightning  from  a  day  too  hot. 
It  must  be  so.     But  I  will  pass  it. 


32  FESTUS. 

Lucifer.  Stay ! 

Festus.    Oh  save  me  God  !     He  is  reality  ! 

Lucifer.     And  now  thou  kneel'st  to  Heaven. 
Fye,  graceless  boy ! 
Mocking  thy  Maker  with  a  cast-off  prayer ; 
For  had  not  I  the  first  fruits  of  thy  faith  ? 

Festus.   Tempter,  away  !     From  all  the  crowds 
of  life 
Why  single  me  ?     Why  score  the  young  green  bole 
For  fellage  ?     Go  !     Am  I  the  youngest,  worst  ? 
No  !     Light  the  fires  of  hell  with  other  souls ; 
Mine  shall  not  burn  with  thee. 

Lucifer.  Thou  judgest  harshly. 

Can  I  not  touch  thee  without  slaying  thee  ? 

Festus.     Why  art  thou  here  ?     What  wouldst 
thou  have  with  me  ? 

Lucifer.  'Fore  all  I  would  have  gentle  words 
and  looks. 

Festus.  I  pray  thee,  go  ! 

Lucifer.  I  cannot  quit  thee  yet. 
But  why  so  sad  ?     Wilt  kneel  to  me  again  ? 
This  leafy  closet  is  most  apt  for  prayer. 

Festus.   Yes ;  I  will  pray  for  thee  and  for  myself. 

Lucifer.  Waste  not  thy  prayers !  I  scatter  them : 
they  reach 
No  further  than  thy  breath  —  a  yard  or  so. 
And  as  for  me,  I  heed  them,  need  them  not. 
My  nature  God  knows  and  hath  fixed  ;  and  He 
Recks  little  of  the  manners  of  the  world ; 
Wicked  He  holdeth  it  and  unrepentant. 

Festus.   Therefore  the  more  some  ought  to  pray. 

Lucifer.  To  blow 

A  kiss,  a  bubble  and  a  prayer  hath  like 
Effect  and  satisfaction. 

Festus.  Let  me  hence  ! 

Go  tell  thy  blasphemies  and  lies  elsewhere. 
Thou  scatter  prayer  !    Make  me  Thy  minister 
One  moment  God  !  that  I  may  rid  the  world 
For  ever  of  its  evil.     Oh  !  Thine  arm ! 


PESTUS.  33 

Lucifer.    Canst  rid  thyself? 

Festus.  Alas,  no.     Get  thee  gone  ! 

Can  nought  insult  thee  nor  provoke  thy  flight  ? 

Lucifer.   I  laugh  alike  at  ruin  and  redemption. 
I  am  the  one  which  knows  nor  hope  nor  fear ; 
Which  ne'er  knew  good  nor  e'er  can  know  the  worst. 
What  thinkest  thou  can  anger  me,  or  harm  ? 

Festus.   Wherefore  didst  thou  quit  Hell  ?     To 
drag  me  there  ? 

Lucifer.    Thou  wilt  not  guess  mine   errand. 
Deem'st  thou  aught 
Which  God  had  made  all  evil  ?     Me  He  made. 
Oft  I  do  good  ;  and  thee  to  serve  I  come. 

Festus.   Did  I  not  hear  thee  boast  with  thy  last 
breath 
Not  to  have  known  what  good  was  ? 

Lucifer.  From  myself 

I  know  it  not ;  yet  God's  will  I  must  work. 
I  come  I  say  to  serve  thee. 

Festus.  Well !  I  would 

Thou  never  hadst :  but  speak  thy  purpose  straight. 

Lucifer.   I  heard  thy  prayer  at  sunset.   I  was 
here. 
I  saw  thy  secret  longings,  unsaid  thoughts, 
Which  prey  upon  the  breast  like  night-fires  on 
A  heath.     I  know  thy  heart  by  heart.     1  read 
The  tongue  when  still  as  well  as  when  it  moves. 
And  thou  didst  pray  to  God.     Did  He  attend  ? 
Or  turn  His  eye  from  the  great  glass  of  tilings, 
Wherein  he  worshippeth  eternally 
Himself,  to  thee  one  moment  ?     He  did  not. 
I  tell  thee  nought  He  cares  for  men.     I  came 
And  come  to  proffer  thee  the  earth  ;  to  set 
Thee  on  a  throne  —  the  throne  of  will  unbound  — 
To  crown  thy  life  with  liberty  and  joy, 
And  make  thee  free  and  mighty  even  as  I  am ! 

Festus.  I  would  not  be  as  thou  art  for  Hell's 
throne; 
Add  Earth's  —  add  Heaven's ! 


34  FESTUS. 

Lucifer.  I  knew  thy  proud  high  heart. 

To  test  its  worth  and  mark  I  held  it  brave, 
In  shape  and  being  thus  myself  I  came  ; 
Not  in  disguise  of  opportunity  — 
Not  as  some  silly  toy  which  serves  for  most  — 
Not  in  the  mask  of  lucre,  lust  nor  power  — 
Not  in  a  goblin  size  nor  cherub  form  — 
But  as  the  soul  of  Hell  and  evil  came  I 
With  leave  to  give  the  kingdom  of  the  world  — 
The  freedom  of  thyself. 

Festus.  Good ;  prove  thy  powers. 

Lucifer.    Do  I  not  prove  them  ?     Who  but  I, 
that  have 
Immortal  might  o'er  mine  own  mind,  and  o'er 
All  hearts  and  spirits  of  the  living  world, 
Would  share  it  with  another,  or  forego, 
One  hour,  the  great  enjoyment  of  the  whole  ? 
And  who  but  I  give  men  what  each  loves  best  ? 

Festus.    Open  the  Heavens  and  let  me  look  on 
God! 
Open  my  heart  and  let  me  see  myself! 
Then  I  '11  believe  thee. 

Lucifer.  Thou  shalt  not  believe 

For  that  I  give  thee,  but  for  that  I  am. 
Believe  me  first ;  then  I  will  prove  myself. 
Though  sick  I  know  thee  of  the  joys  of  sense, 
Yet  those  thou  lovest  most  I  will  make  pure, 
And  render  worthy  of  thy  love  ;  unfilm  them, 
That  so  thou  mayst  not  dally  with  the  blind. 
Thou  shalt  possess  them  to  their  very  souls. 
Pleasure  and  love  and  unimagined  beauty  ; 
All,  all  that  be  delicious,  brilliant,  great, 
Of  worldly  things  are  mine,  and  mine  to  give. 

Festus.   What  can  be  counted  pleasure   after 
love  ? 
Like  the  young  lion  which  hath  once  lapped  blood, 
The  heart  can  ne'er  be  coaxed  back  to  aught  else. 

Lucifer.   I  will  sublime  it  for  thee  all  to  bliss : 
As  yet  it  hath  but  made  thee  wretched. 


FESTUS.  35 

Festus.  Spirit, 

It  is  not  bliss  I  seek  ;  I  care  not  for  it. 
I  am  above  the  low  delights  of  life. 
The  life  I  live  is  in  a  dark  cold  cavern. 
Where  I  wander  up  and  down  feeling  for  something 
Which  is  to  be  —  and  must  be  —  what,  I  know  not ; 
But  the  incarnation  of  my  destiny 
Is  nigh. 

Lucifer.   It  is  thy  fate  which  weighs  upon  thee. 
Necessity  sits  on  humanity, 
Like  to  the  world  on  Atlas'  neck.    'T  is  this, 
And  the  sultry  sense  of  overdrawn  life. 

Festus.  True ; 

The  worm  of  the  world  hath  eaten  out  my  heart. 

Lucifer.    I  will  renew  it  in  thee.    It  shall  be 
The  bosom  favorite  of  every  beauty, 
Even  like  a  rosebud.     Thou  shalt  render  happy, 
By  naming  who  may  love  thee.     Come  with  me. 

Festus.    I  have  a  love  on  earth,  and  one  in 
Heaven. 

Lucifer.     Thou  shalt  love  ten  as  others  love 
but  one ! 

Festus.    Oh!  I  was  glad  when  something  in  me 
said 
Come,  let  us  worship  beauty !  and  I  bowed ; 
And  went  about  to  find  a  shrine ;  but  found 
None  that  my  soul,  when  seeing,  said  enough,  to. 
Many  I  met  with  where  I  put  up  prayers, 
And  had  them  more  than  answered ;  and  at  such 
I  worshipped,  partly  because  others  did ; 
Partly  because  I  could  not  help  myself. 
But  none  of  these  were  for  me ;  and  away 
I  went  champing  and  choking  in  proud  pain ; 
In  a  burning  wrath  that  not  a  sea  could  slake. 
So  I  betook  me  to  the  sounding  sea  ; 
And  overheard  its  slumberous  mutterings 
Of  a  revenge  on  man  ;  whereat  almost 
I  gladdened,  for  I  felt  savage  as  the  sea. 
I  had  only  one  thing  to  behold,  the  sea ; 


36  FESTUS. 

I  had  only  one  thing  to  believe,  I  loved ; 
Until  that  lonesome  sameness  grew  sublime 
And  darkly  beautiful  as  death,  when  some 
Bright  soul  regains  its  star-home,  or  as  Heaven 
Just  when  the  stars  falter  forth,  one  by  one, 
Like  the  first  words  of  love  from  a  maiden's  lips. 
There  are  points  from  which  we  can  command  our 

life; 
When  the  soul  sweeps  the  future  like  a  glass  ; 
And  coming  things,  full  freighted  with  our  fate, 
Jut  out,  dark,  on  the  offering  of  the  mind. 
Let  them  come  !  Many  will  go  down  in  sight ; 
In  the  billow's  joyous  dash  of  death  go  down. 
At  last  came  love ;  not  whence  I  sought  nor  thought 

ifc5 
As  on  a  ruined  and  bewildered  wight 

llises  the  roof  he  meant  to  have  lost  for  ever. 

On  came  the  living  vessel  of  all  love  ; 

Terrible  in  its  beauty  as  a  serpent, 

llode  down  upon  me  like  a  ship  full  sail 

And  bearing  me  before  it,  kept  me  up 

Spite  of  the  drowning  speed  at  which  we  drave 

On,  on,  until  we  sank  both.     Was  not  this  love  ? 

Lucifer.     Why,  how  can  I  tell  ?    I  am  not  in 

love ; 

But  I  have  oft  times  heard  mine  angels  call 

Most  piteously  on  their  lost  loves  in  Heaven ; 

And,  as  I  suffer,  I  have  seen  them  come ; 

Seen  starlike  faces  peep  between  the  clouds, 

And  Hell  become  a  tolerable  torment. 

Some  souls  lose  all  things  but  the  love  of  beauty ; 

And  by  that  love  they  are  redeemable ; 

For  in  love  and  beauty  they  acknowledge  good  ; 

And  good  is  God  —  the  great  Necessity. 

I  have  not  told  thee  half  I  will  do  for  thee. 

All  secrets  thou  shalt  ken  —  all  mysteries  construe. 

At  nothing  marvel.     All  the  veins  which  stretch, 

Unsearchable  by  human  eyes,  of  lore 

Most  precious,  most  profound^  to  thine  shall  bare 


FESTUS  37 

And  vulgar  lie  like  dust.     The  world  within, 
The  world  above  thee,  and  the  dark  domain, 
Mine  own  thou  shalt  o'er  rule ;  and  he  alone 
Who  rightly  can  esteem  such  high  delights, 
He  only  merits  —  he  alone  shall  have. 

Festus.     And  if  I  have  shall  I  be  happier? 
What  is  pleasure  ?     What,  happiness  ? 

Lucifer.  It  is  that 

I  vouchsafe  to  thee. 

Festus.  Am  I  tempted  thus 

Unto  my  fall? 

Lucifer.     God  wills  or  lets  it  be. 
How  thinkest  thou  ? 

Festus.  That  I  will  go  with  thee. 

Lucifer.     From  God  I  come. 

Festus.  I  do  believe  thee,  spirit, 

He  will  not  let  thee  harm  me.     Him  I  love, 
And  thee  I  fear  not.     I  obey  Him. 

Lucifer.  Good. 

Both  time  and  case  are  urgent.     Come  away  ! 

Festus.     Give  me  a  breathing-time  to  fortify, 
Within  myself,  the  promise  I  have  made. 

Lucifer.     Expect  me,  then,  at  midnight,  here. 
Remember, 
That  thou  canst  any  time  repent. 

Festus.  Ay,  true.     [Goes. 

Lucifer.     Repentance  never  yet  did  aught  on 
earth ; 
It  undoes  many  good  things.     Of  all  men, 
Heaven  shield  me  from  the  wretch  who  can  repent ! 


Scene  —  Water  and  Wood  —  Midnight. 

Festus,  alone. 

All  things  are  calm,  and  fair,  and  passive.     Earth 
Looks  as  if  lulled  upon  an  angel's  lap 
Into  a  breathless  dewy  sleep :  so  still. 


88  FESTUS. 

That  we  can  only  say  of  things,  they  be ! 
The  lakelet  now,  no  longer  vexed  with  gusts, 
Replaces  on  her  breast  the  pictured  moon        [time 
Pearled  round  with  stars.     Sweet  imaged  scene  of 
To  come,  perchance,  when  this  vain  life  o'erspent, 
Earth  may  some  purer  beings'  presence  bear ; 
Mayhap  even  God  may  walk  among  his  saints, 
In  eminence  and  brightness  like  yon  moon, 
Mildly  outbeaming  all  the  beads  of  light 
Strung    o'er    night's    proud    dark    brow.      How 

strangely  fair 
Yon  round  still  star,  which  looks  half  sufFering  from, 
And  half  rejoicing  in  its  own  strong  fire  ; 
Making  itself  a  lonelihood  of  light, 
Like  Deity,  where'er  in  Heaven  it  dwells. 
How  can  the  beauty  of  material  things 
So  win  the  heart  and  work  upon  the  mind, 
Unless  like-natured  with  them  ?    Are  great  things 
And  thoughts  of  the  same  blood  ?     They  have  like 

effect. 
Lucifer.    Why  doubt  on  mind  ?    What  matter 

how  we  call 
That  which  all  feel  to  be  their  noblest  part  V 
Even  spirits  have  a  better  and  a  worse  : 
For  every  thing  created  must  have  form. 
Passions  they  have,  somewhat  like  thine ;  but  less 
Of  grossness  and  that  downwardness  of  soul 
Which  men  have.     It  is  true  they  have  no  earth  ; 
For  what  they  live  on  is  above  themselves. 

Festus.     There  seems  a  sameness  among  things; 

for  mind 
And  matter  speak,  in  causes,  of  one  God. 
The  inward  and  the  outward  worlds  are  like ; 
The  pure  and  gross  but  differ  in  degree. 
Tears,  feeling's  bright  embodied  form,  are  not 
More  pure  than  dewdrops,  Nature's  tears,  which  she 
Sheds  in  her  own  breast  for  the  fair  which  die. 
The  sun  insists  on  gladness ;  but  at  night, 
When  he  is  gone,  poor  Nature  loves  to  weep. 


FESTUS.  39 

Lucifer.     There  is  less  real  difference  ainon<? 
things 
Than  men  imagine.     They  overlook  the  mass, 
But  fasten  each  on  some  particular  crumb, 
Because  they  feel  that  they  can  equal  that, 
Of  doctrine,  or  belief,  or  party  cause. 

Festus.  That  is  the  madness  of  the  world — and 
that 
Would  I  remove. 

Lucifer.  It  is  imbecility, 

Not  madness. 

Festus.       Oh !  the  brave  and  good  who  swerve 
A  .worthy  cause  can  only  one  way  fail ; 
By  perishing  therein.     Is  it  to  fail  ? 
No  ;  every  great  or  good  man's  death  is  a  step 
Firm  set  towards  their  end  —  the  end  of  being ; 
Which  is  the  good  of  all  and  love  of  God. 
The  world  must  have  great  minds,  even  as  great 

spheres 
Or  suns,  to  govern  lesser  restless  minds, 
While  they  stand  still  and  burn  with  life ;  to  keep 
Them  in  their  places,  and  to  light  and  heat  them. 
If  I  desire  immortal  life  for  aught, 
It  is  to  learn  the  mystery  of  mind 
And  somewhat  more  of  God.     Let  others  rule 
Systems  or  succor  saints,  if  such  things  please ; 
To  live  like  light  or  die  in  light  like  dew, 
Either  I  I  should  be  blest. 

Lucifer.  It  may  not  be. 

For  as  we  do  not  see  the  sun  himself, 
It  is  but  the  light  about  him,  like  a  ring 
Of  glory  round  the  forehead  of  a  saint,  so 
God  thou  wilt  never  see.     His  unveiled  love 
Were  terrible,  too  much  for  man  to  meet. 

Festus.  Men  have  a  claim  on  God ;  and  none 
who  hath 
A  heart  of  kindness,  reverence  and  love, 
But  dare  look  God  in  the  face  and  ask  His  smile. 
He  dwells  in  no  fierce  light  —  no  cloud  of  flame  ; 


40  FESTUS. 

And  if  it  were,  Faith's  eye  can  look  through  Hell, 
And  through  the  solid  world.     We  must  all  think 
On  God.     Yon  water  must  reflect  the  sky. 
Midnight !     Day  hath  too  much  light  for  us, 
To  see  things  spiritually.     Mind  and  Night 
Will  meet,  though  in  silence,  like  forbidden  lovers, 
With  whom  to  see  each  other's  sacred  form 
Must  satisfy.     The  stillness  of  deep  bliss, 
Sound  as  the  silence  of  the  high  hill-top 
Where  thunder  finds  no  echo  —  like  God's  voice 
Upon  the  worldling's  proud,  cold,  rocky  heart  — 
Fills  full  the  sky ;  and  the  eye  shares  with  Heaven 
That  look,  so  like  to  feeling,  which  the  bright     * 
And  glorious  things  of  Nature  ever  wear. 
There  is  much  to  think  and  feel  of  things  beyond 
This  earth ;  which  lie,  as  we  deem,  upwards  —  far 
From  the  day's  glare  and  riot  —  they  are  Night's ! 
Oh  !  could  we  lift  the  future's  sable  shroud  ! 

Lucifer.    Behind  a  shroud  what  should  thou 
see  but  death  ? 

Festus.    Spirit  is  like  the  thread  whereon  are 
strung 
The  beads  or  worlds  of  life.    It  may  be  here, 
It  may  be  there  that  I  shall  live  again  ; 
In  yon  strange  world  whose  long  nights  know  no  star, 
But  seven  fair  maidlike  moons  attending  him 
Perfect  his  sky  —  perchance  in  one  of  those  — 
But  live  again  I  shall  wherever  it  be. 
We  long  to  learn  the  future  —  love  to  guess. 

Lucifer.   The  science  of  the  future  is  to  man, 
But  what  the  shadow  of  the  wind  might  be. 
Such  thoughts  are  vain  and  useless. 

Festus.  Forced  on  us. 

Lucifer.   All  things  are  of  necessity. 

Festus.  Then  best. 

But  the  good  are  never  fatalists.     The  bad 
Alone  act  by  necessity,  they  say. 

Lucifer.  It  matters  not  what  men  assume  to  be ; 
Or  good,  or  bad,  they  are  but  what  they  are. 


FESTUS.  41 

Festus.   What  is  necessity  ?    Are  we,  and  thou, 
And  all  the  worlds,  and  the  whole  infinite 
We  cannot  see,  but  working  out  God's  thoughts  ? 
And  have  we  no  self-action  ?     Are  all  God  ? 

Lucifer.   Then  hath  He  sin  and  all  absurdity. 

Festus.   Yet,  if  created  Being  have  free-will, 
Is  it  not  wrong  to  judge  it  may  traverse 
God's  own  high  will,  and  yet  impossible 
To  think  on 't  otherwise  ? 

Lucifer.  It  may  be  so. 

All  creature  wills,  and  all  their  ends  and  powers 
Must  come  within  the  boundless  scope  of  God's. 

Festus.   And  all  our  powers  are  but  weaknesses 
To  what  we  shall  have,  and  to  that  God  hath. 
Doth  not  the  wish,  too,  point  the  likelihood 
Of  life  to  come  ? 

Lucifer.  Boys  wish  that  they  were  kings. 

And  so  with  thee.     A  deathless  spirit's  state, 
Freed  from  gross  form  and  bodily  weightiness, 
Seems  kingly  by  the  side  of  souls  like  thine. 
And  boys  and  men  will  likely  both  be  balked. 
What  if  it  be,  that  spirit,  after  death, 
Is  loosed  like  flesh  into  its  elements  ? 
The  worlds  which  man  hath  constellated,  hold 
No  fellowship  in  nature  ;  nor  perchance 
As  he  hath  systematized  life,  mind,  and  soul. 
But  sooth  to  say,  I  know  not  aught  of  this. 
I  have  no  kind.     No  nature  like  to  me 
Exists.     And  human  spirits  must  at  least 
Sleep  till  the  day  of  doom,  if  it  ever  be. 

Festus.    Hast    never    known   one   free   from 
body? 

Lucifer.  None. 

Festus.  Why  seek  then  to  destroy  them  ? 

Lucifer.  It  is  my  part. 

Let  ruin  bury  ruin.     Let  it  be 
Woe  here,  woe  there,  woe,  woe,  be  everywhere ! 
It  is  not  for  me  to  know,  nor  thee,  the  end 
Of  evil.    I  inflict  and  thou  must  bear. 


42  FESTUS. 

The  arrow  knowetli  not  its  end  and  aim. 
And  I  keep  rushing,  ruining  along 
Like  a  great  river  rich  with  dead  men's  souls. 
For  if  I  knew,  I  might  rejoice  ;  and  that 
To  me  by  Nature  is  forbidden.     I  know 
Nor  joy  nor  sorrow ;  but  a  changeless  tone 
Of  sadness  like  the  nightwind's  is  the  strain 
Of  what  I  have  of  feeling.     I  am  not 
As  other  spirits,  —  but  a  solitude 
Even  to  myself;  I  the  sole  spirit  sole. 

Festus.    Can  none  of  thine  immortals  answer 
me  ? 

Lucifer.  None,  mortal ! 

Festus.   Where  then  is  thy  vaunted  power  ? 

Lucifer.    It  is  better  seen  as  thus  I  stand  apart 
From  all.     Mortality  is  mine  —  the  green 
Unripened  universe.     But  as  the  fruit 
Matures,  and  world  by  world  drops  mellowed  off 
The  wrinkling  stalk  of  Time,  as  thine  own  race 
Hath  seen  of  stars  now  vanished  —  all  is  hid 
From  me.     My  part  is  done.     What  after  comes 
I  know  not  more  than  thou. 

Festus.  Raise  me  a  spirit ! 

Awake  ye  dead  !  out  with  the  secret,  death  ! 
The  grave  hath  no  pride  nor  the  rise-again. 
Let  each  one  bring  the  bane  whereof  he  died. 
Bring  the  man  his,  the  maiden  hers  !     Oh  !  half 
Mankind  are  murderers  of  themselves  or  souls. 
Yea,  what  is  life  but  lingering  suicide  ? 
Wake,  dead  !    Ye  know  the  truth ;  yet  there  ye  lie 
All  mingling,  mouldering,  perishing  together 
Like  run  sand  in  the  hour-glass  of  old  Time. 
Death  is  the  mad  world's  asylum.     There  is  peace ; 
Destruction's  quiet  and  equality. 
Night  brings  out  stars  as  sorrow  shows  us  truths  : 
Though  many,  yet  they  help  not ;  bright,  they  light 

not. 
They  are  too  late  to  serve  us :  and  sad  things 
Are  aye  too  true.     We  never  see  the  stars 


FESTUS.  43 

Till  we  can  see  nought  but  them.     So  with  truth. 
And  yet  if  one  would  look  down  a  deep  well, 
Even  at  noon,  we  might  see  those  same  stars 
Far  fairer  than  the  blinding  blue  —  the  truth  ; 
Probe  the  profound  of  thine  own  nature,  man ! 
And  thou  may'st  see  reflected,  e'en  in  life, 
The  worlds,  the  Heavens,  the  ages ;  by  and  by, 
The   coming  come.      Then   welcome,   world-eyed 

Truth! 
But  there  are  other  eyes  men  better  love 
Than  Truth's :  for  when  we  have  her  she  is  so  cold, 
And  proud,  we  know  not.  what  to  do  with  her. 
We  cannot  understand  her,  cannot  teach ; 
She  makes  us  love  her,  but  she  loves  not  us ; 
And  quits  us  as  she  came  and  looks  back  never. 
Wherefore  we  fly  to  Fiction's  warm  embrace, 
With  her  to  relax  and  bask  ourselves  at  ease ; 
And,  in  her  loving  and  unhindering  lap 
Voluptuously  lulled,  we  dream  at  most 
On  death  and  truth :  she  knows  them,  loves  them 

not; 
Therefore  we  hate  them  and  deny  them  both. 
Call  up  the  dead ! 

Lucifer.  Let  rest  while  rest  they  may  ! 

For  free  from  pain  and  from  this  world's  wear  and 

tear 
It  may  be  a  relief  to  them  to  rot ; 
And  it  must  be  that  at  the  day  of  doom, 
If  mortals  should  take  up  immortal  life, 
They  will  curse  me  with   a  thunder  which  shall 

shake 
The  sun  from  out  the  socket  of  his  sphere. 
The  curse  of  all  created.    Think  on  it ! 

Festus.     Those  souls  thou  mean'st  whom  thou 

hast  ruined,  damned. 
Lucifer.     Nor  only  those  ;  when  once  the  vir- 
gin bloom 
Of  soul  is  soiled  —  and  rudely  hath  my  hand 
Swept  o'er  the  swelling  clusters  of  all  life  — 


44  FESTUS. 

Little  it  matters  whether  crushed  or  touched 
Scarcely :  each  speaks  the  spoiler  hath  been  there. 
The  saved,  the  lost,  shall  curse  me  both  alike : 
God  too  shall  curse  me,  and  I,  I,  myself. 
That  curse  is  ever  greatening —  quick  with  hell ; 
The  coming  consummation  of  all  woe. 

Festus.     O  man,  be  happy !  Die  and  cease  for 
ever ! 
Why  wear  we  not  the  shroud  alway,  that  robe 
Which  speaks  our  rank  on  earth,  our  privilege  ? 
To  know  I  have  a  deathless  soul  I  would  lose  it, 

Lucifer.     Belie  vest  thou  all  I  tell  thee  ? 

Festus.  All,  I  do. 

Stringing  the  stars  at  random  round  her  head, 
Like  a  pearl  network,  there  she  sits  —  bright  night ! 
J  love  night  more  than  day  —  she  is  so  lovely. 
But  I  love  night  the  most  because  she  brings 
My  love  to  me  in  dreams  which  scarcely  lie  ; 
Oh !  all  but  truth  and  lovelier  oft  than  truth ! 
Let  me  have  dreams  like  these,  sweet  Night,  for 

ever, 
When  I  shall  wake  no  more ;  an  endless  dream 
Of  love  and  holy  beauty  'mid  the  stars. 

Lucifer.     I  see  thy  heart  and  I  will  grant  thy 
wish. 
I  have  lied  to  thee.     I  have  command  over  spirits. 
Whom  wilt  thou  that  I  call  ? 

Festus.  Mine  Angela ! 

Lucifer.     There   is   an  Angel   ever  by  thine 
hand. 
What  seest  thou  ? 

Festus.  It  is  my  love !     It  is  she  ! 

My  glory !  spirit !  beauty,  let  me  touch  thee. 
Nay,  do  not  shrink  back :  well  then  I  am  wrong  * 
Thou  didst  not  use  to  shrink  from  me,  my  love. 
Angela !  dost  thou  hear  me  ?     Speak  to  me. 
And  thou  art  there  —  looking  alive  and  dead. 
Thy  beauty  is  then  incorruptible. 
I  thought  so,  oft  as  I  have  looked  on  thee. 


FESTUS.  45 

Thou  art  too  much  even  now  for  me  as  once. 

I  cannot  gather  what  I  raved  to  say ; 

Nor  why  I  had  thee  hither.     Stay,  sweet  sprite  ! 

Dear  art  thou  to  me  now,  as  in  that  hour 

When  first  Love's  wave  of  feeling,  spray-like  broke 

Into  bright  utterance,  and  we  said  we  loved. 

Yea,  but  I  must  come  to  thee.     Move  no  more  ! 

Art  thou  in  death  or  Heaven  or  from  the  stars  ? 

Have  I  done  wrong  in  calling  for  thee  thus  ? 

What  art  thou  ?     Speak,  love ;  whisper  me  as  wont 

In  the  dear  times  gone  bye  ;  or  durst  thou  not 

Unfold  the  mystery  of  thine  and  mine 

Own  being  ?     Was  it  Death  who  hushed  thy  lips  ? 

Is  his  cold  finger  there  still  ?     Let  me  come  ! 

She  is  not ! 

Lucifer.     And  thou  canst  not  bring  her  back. 

Festus.     I  will  not,   cannot  be   without  her. 
Call  her! 

Lucifer.    I  call  on  spirits  and  I  make  them 
come; 
But  they  depart  according  to  their  own  will. 
Another  time  and  she  shall  speak  with  thee  — 
Ere  long  —  and  she  shall  shew  thee  where   she 

dwells, 
And  how  doth  pass  her  immortality  ;  — 
If  lengthening  decay  can  so  be  called. 
Can  lines  finite  one  way  be  infinite 
Another  ?     And  yet  such  is  deathlessness. 

Festus.    It  is  hard  to  deem  that  spirits  cease, 
that  thought 
And  feeling  flesh-like  perish  in  the  dust. 
Shall  we  know  those  again  in  a  future  state 
Whom  we  have  known  and  loved  on  earth  ?     Say 
yes! 

Lucifer.     The  mind  hath  features  as  the  body 
hath. 

Festus.     But  is  it  mind  which  shall  rerise  ? 

Lucifer.  Man  were 

Not  man  without  the  mind  he  had  in  life. 


46  FESTUS. 

Festus.     Shall  all  defects  of  mind  and  fallacies 
Of  feeling  be  immortalized  ?  all  needs, 
All  joys,  all  sorrows,  be  again  gone  through, 
Before  the  final  crisis  be  imposed  ? 
Shall  Heaven  but  be  old  earth  created  new  ? 
Or  earth,  treelike,  transplanted  into  Heaven, 
To  flourish  by  the  waters  of  all  life, 
And  we  within  its  shade,  as  heretofore, 
Cropping  its  fruit,  with  life-seeds  cored  at  heart  ? 

Lucifer.    Man's  nature,  physical  and  psychical, 
Will  be  together  raised,  changed,  glorified ; 
And  all  shall  be  alike,  like  God  ;  and  all 
Unlike  each  other,  and  themselves.     The  earth 
Shall  vanish  from  the  thoughts  of  those  she  bore, 
As  have  the  idols  of  the  olden  time 
From  men's  hearts  of  the  present.     All  delight 
And  all  desire,  shall  be  with  Heavenly  things, 
And  the  new  nature  God  bestowed  on  man. 

Festus.     Then  man  shall  be  no  more  man,  but 
an  Angel. 

Lucifer.     When  he  is  dead  and  buried.  What 
remains,  — 
That  such  an  obscure,  contradictory,  thing 
Should  be  perpetuated  anywhere  ? 

Festus.     Oh !  if  God  hates  the  flesh,  why  made 
He  it 
So  beautiful  that  e'en  its  semblance  maddens  ? 
Am  I  to  credit  what  I  think  I  have  seen  ? 
Or  am  I  suffering  some  deceit  of  thine  ? 

Lucifer.     I  am  explaining,  not  deluding. 

Festus.  True. 

Defining  night  by  darkness,  death  by  dust. 
I  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  file  of  doubts, 
Each  one  of  which  down  hurls  me  to  the  ground. 
I  ask  a  hundred  reasons  what  they  mean, 
And  every  one  points  gravely  to  the  ground, 
With  one  hand,  and  to  Heaven  with  the  other. 
In  vain  I  shut  mine  eyes.     Truth's  burning  beam 
Forces  them  open,  and  when  open,  blinds  them. 


FESTUS.  47 

Lucifer.     Doubly  unhappy ! 
Festus-.  I  am  too  unhappy 

To  die ;  as  some  too  way-worn  cannot  sleep. 
Planets  and  suns,  that  set  themselves  on  fire 
By  their  own  rapid  self-revolvements,  are 
But  like  some  hearts.     Existence  I  despise. 
The  shape  of  man  is  wearisome  ;  a  bird's, 
A  worm's  —  a  whirlwind's,  I  would   change   with 

aught. 
Time  !   dash  thine   hour-glass   down.     Have  done 

with  this ! 
The  course  of  Nature  seems  a  course  of  Death, 
And  nothingness  the  sole  substantial  thing. 

Lucifer.     Corruption  springs  from  Light :  't  is 

the  same  power 
Creates,  preserves,  destroys :  the  matter  which 
It  works  on,  being  one  ever-changing  form,  — 
The  living  and  the  dying  and  the  dead. 

Festus.     I'll  not  believe  a  thing  which  I  have 

known. 
Hell  was  made  hell  for  me,  and  I  am  mad. 

Lucifer.    True  venom  churns  the  froth  out  of 

the  lips ; 
It  works,  and  works  like  any  water-wheel. 
And  she  then  was  the  maiden  of  thy  heart. 
Well,  I  have  promised.     Ye  shall  meet  again. 
Festus.    I  loved  her  for  that  she  was  beau* 

tiful ; 
And  that  to  me  she  seemed  to  be  all  nature 
And  all  varieties  of  things  in  one ; 
Would  set  at  night  in  clouds  of  tears,  and  rise 
All  light  and  laughter  in  the  morning  :  yea, 
And  that  she  never  schooled  within  her  breast 
One  thought  or  feeling,  but  gave  holiday 
To  all ;  and  that  she  made  all  even  mine 
In  the  communion  of  love  :  and  we 
Grew  like  each  other  for  we  loved  each  other  — 
She,  mild  and  generous  as  the  sun  in  spring ; 
And  I,  like  earth  all  budding  out  with  love. 


48  FESTUS. 

Lucifer.     And  then,  love's  old  end,  falsehood 
nothing  worse 
I  hope  ? 

Festus.   What's  worse  than  falsehood  ?  to  deny 
The  god  which  is  within  us,  and  in  all 
Is  love  ?     Love  hath  as  many  vanities 
As  charms  ;  and  this,  perchance,  the  chief  of  both : 
To  make  our  young  heart's  track  upon  the  first, 
And  snowlike  fall  of  feeling  which  overspreads 
The  bosom  of  the  youthful  maiden's  mind, 
More  pure  and  fair  than  even  its  outward  type. 
If  one  did  thus,  was  it  from  vanity  ? 
Or  thoughtlessness,  or  worse  ?     Nay,  let  it  pass. 
The  beautiful  are  never  desolate ; 
But  some  one  alway  loves  them  —  God  or  man. 
If  man  abandons,  God  himself  takes  them. 
And  thus  it  was.     She  whom  I  once  loved  died. 
The  lightning  loathes  its  cloud  —  the  soul  its  clay. 
Can  I  forget  that  hand  I  took  in  mine, 
Pale  as  pale  violets  ;  that  eye,  where  mind 
And  matter  met  alike  divine  ?   ah,  no  ! 
May  God  that  moment  judge  me  when  I  do  ! 
Oh  !  she  was  fair :  her  nature  once  all  spring, 
And  deadly  beauty  like  a  maiden  sword  ; 
Startlingly  beautiful.    I  see  her  now ! 
Whatever  thou  art  thy  soul  is  in  my  mind  ; 
Thy  shadow  hourly  lengthens  o'er  my  brain, 
And  peoples  all  its  pictures  with  thyself. 
Gone,  not  forgot  —  passed,   not   lost  —  thou   shalt 

shine 
In  Heaven  like  a  bright  spot  in  the  sun  ! 
She  said  she  wished  to  die,  and  so  she  died ; 
For,  cloudlike,  she  poured  out  her  love,  which  was 
Her  life,  to  freshen  this  parched  heart.   It  was  thus  : 
I  said  we  were  to  part,  but  she  said  nothing. 
There  was  no  discord  —  it  was  music  ceased  — 
Life's  thrilling,  bounding,  bursting  joy.     She  sate 
Like  a  house-god,  her  hands  fixed  on  her  knee  ; 
And  her  dark  hair  lay  loose  and  long  around  her, 


FESTUS.  ,  49 

Through  which  her  wild  bright  eye  flashed  like  flint 
She  spake  not,  moved  not,  but  she  looked  the  more, 
As  if  her  eye  were  action,  speech  and  feeling. 
I  felt  it  all ;  and  came  and  knelt  beside  her. 
The  electric  touch  solved  both  our  souls  together. 
Then  comes  the  feeling  which  unmakes,  undoes  ; 
Which  tears  the  sealike  soul  up  by  the  roots 
And  lashes  it  in  scorn  against  the  skies. 
Twice  did  I  madly  swear  to  God,  hand  clenched, 
That  not  even  He  nor  death  should  tear  her  from  me. 
It  is  the  saddest  and  the  sorest  sight 
One's  own  love  weeping  ;  —  but  why  call  on  God, 
But  that  the  feeling  of  the  boundless  bounds 
All  feeling,  as  the  welkin  doth  the  world  ? 
It  is  this  which  ones  us  with  the  whole  and  God. 
Then   first  we  wept;   then  closed    and  clung   to- 
gether ; 
And  my  heart  shook  this  building  of  my  breast, 
Like  a  live  engine  booming  up  and  down. 
She  fell  upon  me  like  a  snow-wreath  thawing. 
Never  were  bliss  and  beauty,  love  and  woe, 
Ravelled  and  twined  together  into  madness, 
As  in  that  one  wild  hour ;  to  which  all  else, 
The  past,  is  but  a  picture  —  that  alone 
Is  real,  and  for  ever  there  in  front ; 
Making  a  black  blank  on  one  side  of  life 
Like  a  blind  eye.    But  after  that  I  left  her ; 
And  only  saw  her  once  again  alive. 

Lucifer.    Well,  shall  we  go  ? 

Festus.  This  moment.     I  am  ready. 

Farewell  ye  dear  old  walks  and  trees  !  farewell 
Ye  waters !     I  have  loved  ye  well.     In  youth 
And  childhood  it  hath  been  my  life  to  drift 
Across  ye  lightly  as  a  leaf;  or  skim 
Your  waves  in  yon  skiff,  swallowlike ;  or  he 
Like  a  loved  locket  on  your  sunny  bosom. 
Could  I,  like  you,  by  looking  in  myself 
Find  mine  own  Heaven — farewell !  Immortal,  come ! 
The  morning  peeps  her  blue  eye  on  the  east. 
4 


50  FESTUS. 

Lucifer.     Think  not  so  fondly  as  thy  foolish 
race, 
Imagining  a  Heaven  from  things  without ; 
The  picture  on  the  passing  wave  call  Heaven  — 
The  wavelet,  life  —  the  sands  beneath  it,  death ; 
Daily  more  seen  till,  lo  !  the  bed  is  bare. 
This  fancy  fools  the  world. 

Festus.  Let  us  away  ! 


Scene  —  A  Mountain  —  Sunrise. 

Festus  and  Lucifer. 

Festus.    Hail  beauteous  Earth!     Gazing  o'er 
thee,  I  all 
Forget  the  bonds  of  being ;  and  I  long 
To  fill  thee,  as  a  lover  pines  to  blend 
Soul,  passion,  yea  existence,  with  the  fair 
Creature  he  calls  his  own.     I  ask  for  nought 
Before  or  after  death  but  this,  —  to  lie, 
And  look,  and  live,  and  bask,  and  bless  myself 
Upon  thy  broad  bright  bosom.     From  thee  I 
Sprang,  and  to  thee  I  turn,  heart,  arm  and  brain. 
Yes,  I  am  all  thine  own.     Thou  art  the  sole 
Parent.     To  rock  and  river,  plain  and  wood 
I  cry,  ye  are  my  kin.     While  I,  O  Earth ! 
Am  but  an  atom  of  thee,  and  a  breath, 
Passing  unseen  and  unrecorded  like 
The  tiny  throb  here  in  my  temple's  pulse. 
Thou  art  for  ever  and  the  sacred  bride 
Of  heaven,  —  worthy  the  passion  of  our  God. 
O  !  full  of  light,  love,  grace !  —  the  grace  of  all 
Who  owe  to  thee  their  life ;  thy  Maker's  love  ; 
His  face's  light.     All  thine  rejoice  in  thee ; 
Thou  in  thyself  for  aye  ;  rolling  through  air 
As  seraphs'  song  out  of  their  trumpet  lips 
Rolls  round  the  skies  of  Heaven.     See  the  sun  ! 
God's  crest  upon  His  azure  shield  the  Heavens, 
Canst  thou,  a  spirit,  look  upon  him  ? 


FESTUS.  51 

Lucifer.  Ay. 

I  led  him  from  the  void,  where  he  was  wrought, 
By  this  right  hand,  up  to  the  glorious  seat 
His  brightness  overshadows ;  built  his  throne 
On  piles  of  gold;  and  laid  his  chambers  on 
Beams  of  gold  ;  wrapped  a  veil  of  fire  around 
His  face  ;  and  bade  him  reign  and  burn  like  me. 
There,  ever  since,  sat  warming  into  life 
These  worlds  as  in  a  nest,  he  has  and  is. 
But  fall  he  must.     I  have  done,  do,  nought  else 
From  my  first  thought  to  this  and  to  my  last. 
No  matter ;  it  is  beneath  this  mind  of  mine 
To  reck  of  aught.     I  bear,  have  borne  the  ill 
Of  ages,  of  eternities  —  and  must. 
I  care  not.     I  shall  sway  the  world  as  now, 
Which  worse  and  worse  sinks  with  me  as  I  sink, 
Till  finite  souls  evanish  as  a  vapor ; 
Till  immortality,  the  proud  thing,  perish ; 
And  God  alone  be  and  eternity. 
Then  will  I  clap  my  hands  and  cry  to  Him, 
I  have  done  !  Have  Thy  will  now  !  There  is  none 

but  Thee. 
I  am  the  first  created  being.     I 
Will  be  the  last  to  perish  and  to  die. 

Festus.     Thou  art  a  fit  monitor,  methinks,  of 
pleasure. 

Lucifek.     To  the  high  air  sunshine  and  cloud 
are  one ; 
Pleasure  and  pain  to  me.     Thou  and  the  earth 
Alone  feel  these  as  different — for  Ye 
Are  under  them  —  the  Heavens  and  I  above. 

Festus.     But  tell  me,  have  ye  scenes  like  this  in 
Hell  ? 

Lucifer.    Nay,  not  in  Heaven. 

Festus.  What  is  Heaven  ?  not  the  toys 

Of  singing,  love  and  music  ?  such  a  place 
Were  fit  for  women  only. 

Lucifer.  Heaven  is  no  place  ; 

Unless  it  be  a  place  with  God,  all  where. 


52  FESTUS. 

It  is  the  being  good  —  the  knowing  God  — 
The  consciousness  of  happiness  and  power ; 
With  knowledge  which  no  spirit  e'er  can  lose 
But  doth  increase  in  every  state ;  and  aught 
It  most  delights  in  the  full  leave  to  do. 
But  why  consume  me  with  such  questions  ?     Why 
Add  earth  to  Hell,  in  the  great  chain  of  worlds 
Which  God  in  wrath  hath  bound  about  me  ? 

Festus.  Why ! 

'T  was  therefore  that  I  closed  with  thee,  great  Fiei  "d ! 
That  thou  mightst  answer  all  things  I  proposed, 
Or  bring  me  those  who  would  do. 

Lucifer.  All  these  things 

Thou  wilt  know  sometime,  when  to  see  and  know 
Are  one ;  to  see  a  thing  and  comprehend 
The  nature  of  it  essentially ;  perceive 
The  reason  and  the  science  of  its  being, 
And  the  relations  with  the  universe 
Of  all  things  actual  or  possible, 
Mortal,  immortal,  spiritual,  gross. 
This,  when  the  spirit  is  made  free  .of  Heaven, 
Is  the  divine  result ;  proportioned  still 
To  the  intelligence  as  human  ;  for 
There  are  degrees  in  Heaven  as  every  thing, 
By  God's  will.     Unimaginable  space 
As  full  of  suns  as  is  earth's  sun  of  atoms, 
Faileth  to  match  His  boundless  variousness ; 
And  ever  must  do,  though  a  thousand  worlds, 
As  diverse  from  each  other  as  is  thine 
From  any  of  thy  system's,  were  elanced 
Each  minute  into  life  unendingly. 
All  of  yon  worlds,  and  all  who  dwell  in  them, 
Stand  in  diverse  degrees  of  bliss  and  being. 
Through  the  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousandth  grade 
Of  blessedness,  above  this  world's  and  man's 
Ability  to  feel  or  to  conceive, 
The  soul  may  pass  and  yet  know  nought  of  Heaven. 
More  than  a  dim  and  miniature  reflection 
Of  its  most  bright  infinity  ;  —  for  God 


FESTUS.  53 

Makes  to  each  spirit  its  peculiar  Heaven  ;  — 

And  yet  is  Heaven  a  bright  reality, 

As  this  or  any  of  yon  worlds  ;  a  state 

Where  all  is  loveliness  and  power  and  love ; 

Where  all  sublimest  qualities  of  mind, 

Not  infinite,  are  limited  alone 

By  the  surrounding  Godhood,  and  where  nought 

But  what  produceth  glory  and  delight, 

To  creature  and  Creator  is :  where  all 

Enjoy  entire  dominion  o'er  themselves, 

Acts,  feelings,  thoughts,  conditions,  qualities, 

Spirit  and  soul  and  mind ;  all  under  God, 

For  spirit  is  soul  Deified ;  —  while  earth, 

To  the  immortal  vast,  God-natured  Spirit, 

Is  but  a  spell,  which  having  served  to  light 

A  lamp,  is  cast  into  consuming  fire. 

Festus.     And  Hell  ?     Is  it  naught  but  pits  and 
chains  and  flames  ? 

Lucifer.     An  ever  greatening  sense  of  ill  and 
woe, 
Aye  crushing  down  the  soul,  but  filling  never 
Its  infinite  capacity  of  pain. 

Festus.     But  human  nature  is  not  infinite, 
And  therefore  cannot  suffer  endlessly. 

Lucifer.     God  may  create  in  time  what  shall 
endure 
Unto  Eternity.     With  Him  is  no 
Distinction,  nor  in  that  which  is  of  Him. 

Festus.     Then  is  not  soul  of  God,  but  man  and 
earth. 
Soul  when  made  spirit  is  of  earth  no  more, 
Nor  time,  but  of  Eternity  and  Heaven. 
'Tis  but  when  in  the  body,  and  bent  down 
To  worldly  ends,  that  human  souls  become 
Objects  of  time,  as  most  are,  till  the  hour 
Comes  when  the  soul  of  man  shall  be  made  one 
With  God's  spirit ;  and  where  shall  woe  be  then  ? 
Where,  sin?  where,  suffering?  when  the  mortal 
soul 


54  FESTUS. 

Shall  be  Divinized  and  eternized  by 
God's  very  spirit  put  upon  it  ? 

Lucifer.  How 

Can  souls  begotten  to  predestined  doom, 
From  and  before  all  worlds,  be  deemed  of  earth? 

Festus.     Things  spiritual,  as  belonging  God, 
Are  known  unto  Him,  and  predestined  from 
Eternity,  nor  these  alone ;  but  Flesh 
Forms  not  nor  does  it  need  the  care  of  Fate. 

Lucifer.     The  object    of   eternal   knowledge 
must 
Have  like  existence. 

Festus.  Then  it  cannot  be 

Bound  unto  torment ;  that  would  be  to  bring 
Torture  on  godlike  essence. 

Lucifer.  Hast  not  heard, 

How  thine  existence  here,  on  earth,  is  but 
The  dark  and  narrow  section  of  a  life 
Which  was  with  God,  long  ere  the  sun  was  lit, 
And  shall  be  yet,  when  all  the  bold  bright  stars 
Are  dark  as  death-dust  —  Lumortality 
And  Wisdom  tending  thee  on  either  hand, 
Thy  divine  sisters  ?   But  do  thou  believe 
E'en  what  thou  wilt.    It  matters  not  to  me. 

Festus.   Is  it  the  nature  or  the  deed  of  God 
To  render  finite  follies  infinite, 
Or  to  eternize  sin  and  death  in  fire  ? 
For  so  long  as  the  punishment  endures, 
The  crime  lasts.    Were  it  not  for  thy  presence, 
Spirit !  I  would  not  deem  Hell  were. 

Lucifer.  Let  not 

My  presence  pass  for  more  than  it  is  worth, 
I  pray,  nor  yet  my  absence.     Trust  me,  I 
Could  wish,  with  thee,  that  Hell  were  blotted  out 
Of  utmost  space.     'T  is  man  himself  aye  makes 
His  own  God  and  his  hell.     But  this  is  truth. 

Festus.   The  truth  is  perilous  never  to  the  true, 
Nor  knowledge  to  the  wise  ;  and  to  the  fool, 
And  to  the  false,  error  and  truth  alike. 


FESTUS.  55 

Error  is  worse  than  ignorance.     But  say :  — 
How  can  eternal  punishment  be  due 
To  temporal  offences,  to  a  pulse 
Of  momentary  madness  ? 

Lucifer.  Pardon  me. 

Sin  is  not  temporary.     Nothing  is, 
Of  spiritual  nature,  but  hath  cause 
Immortal  and  immortal  end  in  all, 
As  spirits.    Therefore  till  the  soul  "shall  be 
By  grace  redeified,  as  is  the  soul, 
So  is  the  sin,  for  ever  before  God. 

Festus.    Sin  is  not  of  the  spirit,  but  of  that 
Which  blindeth  spirit,  heart  and  brain. 

Lucifer.  Believe  so. 

The  law  of  all  the  worlds  is  retribution. 

Festus.   But  is  it  so  of  God  ? 

Lucifer.  The  laws  of  Heaven 

Are  not  of  earth ;  there  law  is  liberty. 

Festus.    Thou  thundercloud  of  spirits,  darkning 
The  skies  and  wrecking  earth  !    Could  I  hate  men 
How  I  should  joy  with  thee, -even  as  an  eagle, 
Nigh  famished,  in  the  fellowship  of  storms ; 
But  I  still  love  them.     What  will  come  of  men  ? 

Lucifer.    Whatever  may,  perdition    is    their 
meed. 
Were  Heaven  dispeopled  for  a  ministry 
To  warn  them  of  their  ways  ;  were  thou  and  I 
To  monish  them ;  were  Heaven,  and  Earth,  and  Hell 
To  preach  at  once,  they  still  would  mock  and  jeer 
As  now  ;  but  never  repent  until  too  late  ; 
Until  the  everlasting  hour  had  struck.    . 

Festus.     Men  might  be    better  if  we  better 
deemed 
Of  them.     The  worst  way  to  improve  the  world 
Is  to  condemn  it.     Men  may  overget 
Delusion  —  not  despair. 

Lucifer.  Why  love  mankind  ? 

The  affections  are  thy  system's  weaknesses ; 
The  wasteful  outlets  of  self-maintenance. 


56  FESTUS. 

Festus.    The  wild    flower's   tendril,   proof  oi 
feebleness, 
Proves  strength ;  and  so  we  fling  our  feelings  out, 
The  tendrils  of  the  heart,  to  bear  us  up. 

0  Earth  !  how  drear  to  think  to  tear  oneself, 
Even  for  an  hour,  from  looks  like  this  of  thine  ; 
From  features,  oh  !  so  fair ;  to  quit  for  aye 
The  luxury  of  thy  side.     Why,  why  art  thou 
Thus  glorious,  and  't  were  not  to  sate  the  soul, 
And  chide  us  for  the  senseless  dream  of  Heaven  ? 
The  still  strong  stream  sweeps  onward  to  its  end, 
Like  one  of  the  great  purposes  of  God  ; 

Or  like,  may  be,  a  soul  like  mine  to  Him. 
Along  yon  deep  blue  vein  upon  thy  bosom, 
Earth,  I  could  float  for  ever.     See  it  there  — 
AVinding  among  its  green  and  smiling  isles, 
Like  Charity  amidst  her  children  dear ; 
Or  Peace,  rejoicing  in  her  olive  wreaths, 
And  gladdening  as  she  glides  along  the  lands. 

Lucifer.    And  yet  all  this  must  end — must 
pass ;  drop  down 
Oblivion  like  a  pebble  in  a  pit : 
For  God  shall  lay  His  hand  upon  the  earth, 
And  crush  it  up  like  a  red  leaf. 

Festus.  Not  be  ? 

1  cannot  root  the  thought,  nor  hold  it  firm. 

Lucifer.    This  same  sweet  world  which  thou 
wouldst  fondly  deem 
Eternal,  may  be ;  which  I  soon  shall  see 
Destruction  suck  back  as  the  tide  a  shell. 

Festus.    It  will  not  be  yet.    I'll  woo  thee, 
world,  again, 
And  revel  in  thy  loveliness  and  love. 
I  have  a  heart  with  room  for  every  joy  : 
And  since  we  must  part,  sometime,  while  I  may, 
I  '11  quaff  the  nectar  in  thy  flowers,  and  press 
The  richest  clusters  of  thy  luscious  fruit 
Into  the  cup  of  my  desires.     I  know 
My  years  are  numbered  not  in  units  yet. 


FESTUS.  57 

But  I  cannot  live  unless  I  love  and  am  loved ; 

Unless  I  have  the  young  and  beautiful 

Bound  up  like  pictures  in  my  book  of  life. 

It  is  the  intensest  vanity  alone 

Which  makes  us  bear  with  life.      Some  seem  to 

live, 
Whose  hearts  are  like  those  unenlightened  stars 
Of  the  first  darkness  —  lifeless,  timeless,  useless  — 
With  nothing  but  a  cold  night  air  about  them ; 
Not  suns  —  not  planets  —  darkness  organized  : 
Orbs  of  a  desert  darkness  :  with  no  soul 
To  light  its  watchfirc  in  the  wilderness, 
And  civilize  the  solitude  one  moment. 
There  are  such  seemingly ;  but  how  or  why 
They  live  I  know  not.     This  to  me  is  life  ; 
That  if  life  be  a  burden,  I  will  join 
To  make  it  but  the  burden  of  a  song : 
I  hate  the  world's  coarse  thought.     And  this  is  life 
To  watch  young  beauty's  budlike  feelings  burst 
And  load  the  soul  with  love  ;  —  as  that  pale  flower, 
Which  opes  at  eve,  spreads  sudden  on  the  dark 
Its  yellow  bloom,  and  sinks   the    air  down  with 

sweets. 
Let  Heaven  take  all  that 's  good  —  Hell  all  that 's 

foul ; 
Leave  us  the  lovely !  and  we  will  ask  no  more. 
Lucifer.    To  me  it  seems  time  all  should  end. 

The  sky 
Grows  gray.     It  is  not  so  bright  nor  blue  as  once. 
Well  I  remember,  as  it  were  yesterday, 
When  earth  and  Heaven  went   happy,  hand    in 

hand, 
With  all  the  morning  dew  of  youth  about  them ; 
With  the  bright    unworldly  hearts  of  youth  and 

truth 
And  the  maiden  bosoms  of  the  beautiful :  — 
Ere  earth  sinned,  or  the  pure  indignant  Heavens 
Retreated  high,  nigh  God ;  when  earth  was  all 
A  creeping  mass  alive  with  shapeless  things : 


58  FESTUS. 

And  when  there  were    but   three    things   in   the 

world  — 
Monsters,  mountains  and  water :  before  age 
Had  thickened  the  eyes  of  stars;  and  while  the  sea, 
Rejoicing  like  a  ring  of  saints  round  God, 
Or  Heaven  on  Heaven  about  some  newborn  sun, 
In  its  sublime  samesoundingness,  laughed  out 
And  cried  not  I !     Like  God  I  never  rest. 

Festus.  God  hath  his  rest ;  earth  hers.     Let  me 
have  mine. 
Yet  must  I  look  on  thee,  fair  scene,  again, 
Ere  I  depart.     The  glory  of  the  world 
Is  on  all  hands.     In  one  encircling  ken, 
I  gaze  on  river,  sea,  isle,  continent, 
Mountain,  and  wood,  and  wild,  and  fire-lipped  hill, 
And  lake,  and  golden  plain,  and  sun,  and  Ibavcn, 
Where  the  stars  brightly  die,  whose  death  is  da}- ; 
City  and  port  and  palace,  ships  and  tents, 
Lie  massed  and  mapped  before  me.     All  is  here. 
The  elements  of  the  world  are  at  my  feet, 
Above  me  and  about  me.     Now  would  I 
Be  and  do  somewhat  beside  that  I  am. 
Canst  thou  not  give  me  some  et  In  'real  slave, 
Of  the  pure  essence  of  an  element  — 
Such  as  my  bondless  brain  hath  oft  times  drawn 
In  the  divine  insanity  of  dreams  — 
To  stand  before  me  and  obey  me,  spirit? 

Lucifeh.     Call  out,  and  see  if  aught  arise  to 
thee. 

Festus.     Green  dewy  Earth,  who  standest  at  my 
feet, 
Singing  and  pouring  sunshine  on  thy  head, 
As  naiad  native  water,  speak  to  me ! 
I  am  thy  son.     Canst  thou  not  now,  as  once, 
Bring  forth  some  being  dearer,  liker  to  thee 
Than  is  my  race,  —  Titan  or  tiny  lay, 
Stream-nymph  or  wood-nymph  ?     She  hath  ceased 

to  speak, 
Like  God,  except  in  thunder,  or  to  look 


FESTUS.  59 

Unless  in  lightning.    Miracles,  with  earth, 
Are  out  of  fashion  as  with  Heaven. 

Lucifer.  More's 

The  pity.     Call  elsewhere  !     Old  Earth  is  hard 
Of  hearing,  may  be. 

Festus.  I  beseech  thee,  Sea ! 

Tossing  thy  wavy  locks  in  sparkling  play, 
Like  to  a  child  awakening  with  the  light 
To  laughter.     Canst  not  thou  disgulph  for  me 
From  thy  deep  bosom,  deep  as  Heaven  is  high, 
Of  all  thy  sea-gods  one,  or  sea-maids  ? 

Lucifer.  None ! 

Festus.    I  half  despair.    Fire  !  that  art  slumber- 
ing there, 
Like  some  stern  warrior  in  his  rocky  fort, 
After  the  vast  invasion  of  the  world, 
Hast  not  some  flaming  imp,  or  messenger 
Of  empyrean  element,  to  whom, 
In  virtue  of  his  nature,  are  both  known 
The  secrets  of  the  burning,  central,  void  below, 
And  yon  bright  Heaven,  out  of  whose  aery  fire 
Are  wrought  the  forms  of  angels  and  the  thrones  ? 
Hast  none  at  hand  to  do  my  bidding  ?     Come  ! 
Breathe  out  a  spirit  for  me  !     One  I  ask 
That  shall  be  with  me  always,  as  a  friend, 
And  not  like  thee,  who  despotizest  o'er 
The  heart  thou  seek'st  to  serve.     I  must  be  free. 

Lucifer.     All   finite    souls  must  serve ;     their 
widest  sway 
Is  but  the  rule  of  service.     This  fair  earth 
Which  thou  dost  boast  so  much  of,  why,  thou  see'st 
'Tis  but  the  particolored,  scummy  dross 
Of  the  original  element  wherefrom 
The  fiery  worlds  were  framed. 

Festus.  Air  !  and  thou,  Wind ! 

Which  art  the  unseen  similitude  of  God 
The  Spirit,  His  most  meet  and  mightiest  sign  ; 
The  earth  with  all  her  steadfastness  and  strength, 
Sustaining  all,  and  bound  about  with  chains 


60  FESTUS. 

Of  mountains,  as  is  life  with  mercies,  ranging  round 

With  all  her  sister  orbs  the  whole  of  Heaven, 

Is  not  so  like  the  unlikenable  One 

As  thou.     Ocean  is  less  divine  than  thee  ; 

For  although  all  but  limitless,  it  is  yet 

Visible,  many  a  land  not  visiting. 

But  thou  art,  Lovelike,  everywhere ;  o'er  earth, 

O'er  ocean  triumphing,  and  aye  with  clouds, 

That  like  the  ghost  of  ocean's  billows  roll, 

Decking  or  darkening  Heaven.     The  sun's  light 

FloAveth  and  ebbeth  daily  like  the  tides ; 

The  moon's  doth  grow  or  lessen,  night  by  night ; 

The  stirless  stars  shine  forth  by  fits  and  hide, 

And  our  companion  planets  come  and  go  ;  — 

And  all  are  known,  their  laws  and  liberties. 

Rut  no  man  can  foreset  thy  coming,  none 

licason  against  thy  going  ;  thou  art  free, 

The  type  impalpable  of  Spirit,  thou. 

Thunder  is  but  a  momentary  thing, 

Like  a  world's  death-rattle,  and  is  like  death  ; 

And  lightning,  like  the  blaze  of  sin,  can  blind 

Only  and  slay.     But  what  are  these  to  thee, 

In  thine  all-present  variousness  ?     Now, 

So  light  as  not  to  wake  the  snowiest  down 

Upon  the  dove's  breast,  winning  her  bright  way 

Calm  and  sublime  as  Grace  unto  the  soul, 

Towards  her  far  native  grove ;    now,  stern   and 

strong 
As  ordnance,  overturning  tree  and  tower ; 
Cooling  the  white  brows  of  the  peaks  of  fire  — 
Turning  the  sea's  broad  furrows  like  a  plough,  — 
Fanning  the  fruitening  plains,  breathing  the  sweets 
Of  meadows,  wandering  o'er  blinding  snows, 
And  sands  like  sea-beds  and  the  streets  of  cities, 
Where  men  as  garnered  grain  lie  heaped  together ; 
Freshening  the  cheeks,  and  mingling  oft  the  locks 
Of  youth  and  beauty,  'neath  star-speaking  eve ; 
Swelling  the  pride  of  canvas,  or,  in  wrath, 
Scattering  the  fleets  of  nations  like  dead  leaves : 


FESTUS.  Gl 

In  all,  the  same  o'ermastering  sightless  force, 
Bowing  the  highest  things  of  earth  to  earth, 
And  lifting  up  the  dust  unto  the  stars ; 
Fatelike,  confounding  reason,  and  like  God's 
Spirit,  conferring  life  upon  the  world,  — 
Midst  all  corruption  incorruptible  ; 
Monarch  of  all  the  elements  !  hast  thou 
No  soft  Eolian  sylph,  with  sightless  wing, 
To  spare  a  mortal  for  an  hour  ? 

Lucifer.  Peace,  peace ! 

All  nature  knows  that  I  am  with  thee  here, 
And  that  thou  need'st  no  minor  minister. 
To  thee  I  personate  the  world  —  its  powers, 
Beliefs,  and  doubts  and  practices. 

Festus.  Are  all 

Mine  invocations  fruitless,  then  ? 

Lucifer.  They  are. 

Let  us  enjoy  the  world ! 

Festus.  If 'twas  God's  will 

That  thou  shouldst  visit  me  He  shall  not  send 
Temptation  to  my  heart  in  vain.     Sweet  world ! 
We  all  still  cling  to  thee.     Though  thou  thyself 
Passest  away,  yet  men  will  hanker  about  thee, 
Like  mad  ones  by  their  moping  haunts.    Men  pass, 
Cleaving  to  things  themselves  which  pass  away, 
Like  leaves  on  waves.     Thus  all  things  pass  for 

ever, 
Save  mind  and  the  mind's  meed. 

Lucifer.  Let  us  too  pass ! 


Scene  —  Alcove  and  Garden. 

Festus  and  Clara. 

Festus.  What  happy  things  are  youth  and  love 
and  sunshine ! 
How  sweet  to  feel  the  sun  upon  the  heart ! 
To  know  it  is  lighting  up  the  rosy  blood, 


And  with  all  joyous  feelings,  prism-hucd, 
Making  the  dark  breast  shine  like  a  spar  grot. 
We  walk  among  the  sunbeams  as  with  angels. 

Clara.   Yes,  there  are   feelings   so  serene  and 
sweet, 
Coming  and  going  with  a  musical  lightness, 
That  they  can  make  amends  for  their  passingness, 
And  balance  God's  condition  to  decay ; 
As  yon  light  fleecy  cloudlet  floating  along, 
Like  golden  down  from  some  high  angel's  wing, 
Breaks  but  relieves  and  beautifies  the  blue. 
I  wonder  if  ever  I  could  love  another. 
How  I  should  start  to  see  upon  the  sward 
A  shadow  not  thine  own  armlinked  with  mine ! 
See,  here  is  a  garland  I  have  bound  for  thee. 

Festus.     Nay,  crown  thyself;  it  will  suit  thee 
better,  love. 
Place  wreaths  of  everlasting  flowers  on  tombs, 
And  deck  with  fading  beauties  forms  that  fade. 
Put  it  away,  —  I  will  no  crown  save  this  :  g 

And  could  the  line  of  dust  which  here  I  trace 
Upon  my  brow  but  warrant  dust  beneath  — 
And  nothing  more  —  or  could  this  bubble  frame, 
Informed  with  soul,  lashed  from  the  stream  of  life 
By  its  own  impetus,  but  burst  at  once, 
And  vanish  part  on  high  and  part  below, 
I  would  be  happy,  nor  would  envy  death. 
Could  I,  like  Heaven's  bolt,  earthing  quench  my- 
self, 
This  moment  would  I  burn  me  out  a  grave. 
Might  I  but  be  as  many  years  in  dying 
As  I  have  lived  —  that  might  be  some  relief. 

Clara.   What  canst  thou  mean  ? 

Festus.  Mean  ?     Is  there  not  a  future  ? 

The  past,  the  present  and  the  coming,  curse  each ! 
The  future,  curse  it ! 

Clara.  Shall  we  not  ever  live 

And  love  as  now  ? 

Festus.  Ay,  live  I  fear  we  must. 


FESTUS.  63 

Clara.     And  love :  because  we  then  are  hap- 
piest. 
We  shall  lack  nothing  having  love :  and  we, 
We  must  be  happy  everywhere  —  we  two  ! 
For  spiritual  life  is  great  and  clear, 
And  self-continuous  as  the  changeless  sea, 
Rolling  the  same  in  every  age  as  now ; 
Whether  o'er  mountain  tops,  where  only  snow 
Dwells,  and  the  sunbeam  hurries  coldly  by ; 
Or  o'er  the  vales,  as  now,  of  some  old  world 
Older  than  ancient  man's.     As  is  the  sea's, 
So  is  the  life  of  spirit,  and  the  kind. 
And  then  with  natures  raised,  refined,  and  freed 
From  these  poor  forms,  our   days   shall   pass  in 

peace 
And  love  ;  no  thought  of  human  littleness 
Shall  cross  our  high  calm  souls,  shining  and  pure 
As  the  gold  gates  of  Heaven.     Like  some  deep 

lake 
Upon  a  mountain  summit  they  shall  rest, 
High  above  cloud  and  storm  of  life  like  this, 
All  peace  and  power,  and  passionless  purity ; 
Or  if  a  thought  of  other  troubled  times 
Ruffle  it  for  a  moment,  it  shall  pass 
Like  a  chance  raindrop  on  its  heavenward  face. 
I  love  to  meditate  on  bliss  to  come. 
Not  that  I  am  unhappy  here ;  but  that 
The  hope  of  higher  bliss  may  rectify 
The  lower  feeling  which  we  now  enjoy. 
This  life,  this  world  is  not  enough  for  us ; 
They  are  nothing  to  the  measure  of  our  mind. 
For  place  we  must  have  space ;  for  time  we  must 

have 
Eternity ;  and  for  a  spirit  godhood. 

Festus.     Mind  means  not  happiness  :  power  is 

not  good. 
Clara.     True  bliss  is  to  be  found  in  holy  life ; 
In  charity  to  man  —  in  love  to  God : 
Why  should  such  duties  cease,  such  powers  decay  ? 


64  FESTUS. 

Are  tliey  not  worthy  of  a  deathless  state  — 
A  boundless  scope  —  a  high  uplifted  life  ? 
Man,  like  the  air-born  eagle  who  remains 
On  earth  only  to  feed  and  sleep  and  die ; 
But  whose  delight  is  on  his  lonely  wing, 
Wide  sweeping  as  a  mind,  to  force  the  skies 
High  as  the  lightfall  ere,  begirt  with  clouds, 
It  dash  this  nether  world  —  immortal  man 
Kushes  aloft,  right  upwards,  into  Heaven. 
O  faith  of  Christ,  sole  honor  of  the  world  ! 

Festus.     What  know  men  of  religion,  save  its 
forms  ? 

Clara.     True   faith  nor  biddeth   nor  abideth 
form. 
The  bended  knee,  the  eye  uplift  is  all 
Which  man  need  render ;  all  which  God  can  bear. 
What  to  the  faith  are  forms  ?     A  passing  speck, 
A  crow  upon  the  sky.     God's  worship  is 
That  only  He  inspires  ;  and  His  bright  words, 
Writ  in  the  red-leaved  volume  of  the  heart, 
Return  to  him  in  prayer,  as  dew  to  Heaven. 
Our  proper  good  Ave  rarely  seek  or  make  ; 
Mindless  of  our  immortal  powers  and  their 
Immortal  end,  as  is  the  pearl  of  its  worth, 
The  rose  its  scent,  the  wave  its  purity. 

Festus.     Come,  we  will  quit  these  saddening 
themes.     Wilt  sing 
To  me  ?  for  I  am  gloomy ;  and  I  love 
Thy  singing,  sacred  as  the  sound  of  hymns, 
On  some  bright  Sabbath  morning,  en  the  moor, 
Where  all  is  still  save  praise ;  and  where  hard  by 
The  ripe  grain  shakes  its  bright  beard  in  the  sun  ; 
The  wild  bee  hums  more  solemnly  ;  the  deep  sky, 
The  fresh  green  grass,  the  sun,  and  sunny  brook, 
All  look  as  if  they  knew  the  day,  the  hour ; 
And  felt  with  man  the  need  and  joy  of  thanks. 

Clara.    I  cannot    sing  the  lightsome  lays  of 
love, 
Many  thou  know'st  who  can ;  but  none  that  can 


FESTUS.  65 

Love  thee  as  I  do  —  for  I  love  thy  soul ; 
And  I  would  save  it,  Festus !    Listen  then : 

Is  Heaven  a  place  where  pearly  streams 

Glide  over  silver  sand  ? 
Like  childhood's  rosy  dazzling  dreams 

Of  some  far  faery  land  ? 
Is  Heaven  a  clime  where  diamond  dews 

Glitter  on  fadeless  flowers  ? 
And  mirth  and  music  ring  aloud 

From  amaranthine  bowers  ? 

Ah  no  ;  not  such,  not  such  is  Heaven  ! 

Surpassing  far  all  these ; 
Such  cannot  be  the  guerdon  given 

Man's  wearied  soul  to  please. 
For  saint  and  sinner  here  below 

Such  vain  to  be  have  proved : 
And  the  pure  spirit  will  despise 

Whate'er  the  sense  hath  loved. 

There  we  shall  dwell  with  Sire  and  Son, 

And  with  the  mother-maid, 
And  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  one  : 

In  glory  like  arrayed : 
And  not  to  one  created  thing 

Shall  our  embrace  be  given  ; 
But  all  our  joy  shall  be  in  God ; 

For  only  God  is  Heaven. 

Festus.    I  know  that  thou  dost  love  me.    I  in 

vain 
Strive  to  love   aught  of  earth  or    Heaven    but 

thee. 
Thou  art  my  first,  last,  only  love ;  nor  shall 
Another  even  tempt  my  heart.     Like  stars, 
A  thousand  sweet  and  "bright  and  wondrous  fair, 
A  thousand  deathless  miracles  of  beauty, 
They  shall  ever  pass  at  all  but  eyeless  distance, 
5 


66  FESTUS. 

And  never  mix  with  thy  love  ;  but  be  lost 
All,  meanly  in  its  moonlike  lustrousness. 

Clara.     How  still  the  air  is !  the  tree  tops  stir 
not : 
But  stand  and  peer  on  Heaven's  bright  face   as 

though 
It  slept  and  they  were  loving  it:  they  would  not 
Have  the  skies  see  them  move  for  summers :  would 

they  ? 
See  that  sweet  cloud  !     It  is  watching  us,  I  am  cer- 
tain. 
What  have  we  here  to  make  thee  stay  one  second  ? 
Away !  thy  sisters  wait  thee  in  the  west, 
The  blushing  bridemaids  of  the  sun  and  sea. 
I  would  I  were  like  thee,  thou  little  cloud, 
Ever  to  live  in  Heaven :  or  seeking  earth 
To  let  my  spirit  down  in  drops  of  love : 
To  sleep  with  night  upon  her  dewy  lap ; 
And,  the  next  dawn,  back  with  the  sun  to  Heaven, 
And  so  on  through  eternity,  sweet  cloud  ! 
I  cannot  but  think  that  some  senseless  things 
Are  happy.     Often  and  often  have  I  watched 
A  gossamer  line  sighing  itself  along 
The  air,  as  it  seemed  ;  and  so  thin,  thin  and  bright, 
Looking  as  woven  in  a  loom  of  light, 
That  I  have  envied  it,  I  have,  and  followed ;  — 
Oft  watched  the  sea-bird's  down  blown  o'er  the 

wave, 
Now  touching  it,  now  spirited  aloft, 
Now  out  of  sight,  now  seen,  —  till  in  some  bright 

fringe 
Of  streamy  foam,  as  in  a  cage,  at  last 
A  playful  death  it  dies,  and  mourned  its  death. 

Festus.     But  thinkest  thou  the  future  is  a  state 
More  positive  than  this ;  or  that  it  can  be 
Aught  but  another  present,  full  of  cares, 
And  toils,  perhaps,  and  duties ;  that  the  soul 
Will  ever  be  more  nigh  to  God  than  now, 
Save  as  may  seem  from  mind's  debility  : 


FESTUS.  67 

Just  as  the  sun,  from  weakness  of  the  eye, 
And  the  illusions  made  by  matter's  forms, 
Seems  hot  and  wearied  resting  on  the  hill  ? 
It  would  be  well,  I  think,  to  live  as  though 
No  more  were  to  be  looked  for ;  to  be  good 
Because  it  is  best,  here  ;  and  leave  hope  and  fear 
For  lives  below  ourselves.     If  earth  persuades  not 
That  I  owe  prayer  and  praise  and  love  to  God, 
While   all  I  have  He   gives,  will  Heaven?   will 

Hell? 
No ;  neither,  never ! 

Clara.  I  think  not  all  with  thee. 

Have  I  not  heard  thee  hint  of  spirit-friends  ? 
Where  are  they  now  ? 

Festus.  Ah !  close  at  hand,  mayhap. 

I  have  a  might  immortal ;  and  can  ken 
With  angels.     Neither  sky  nor  night  nor  earth 
Hinder  me.     Through  the  forms  of  things  I  see 
Their  essences ;  and  thus,  even  now,  behold  — 
But  where  I  cannot  show  to  thee  —  far  round, 
Nature  herself — the  whole  effect  of  God. 
Mind,  matter,  motion,  heat,  time,  love,  and  life, 
And  death  and  immortality ;  those  chief 
And  first-born  giants  all  are  there ;  all  parts, 
All  limbs  of  her  their  mother ;  she  is  all. 

Clara.     And  what  does  she  ? 

Festus.  Produce :  it  is  her  life. 

The  three  named  last,  life,  death,  deathlessness, 
Glide  in  elliptic  path  round  all  things  made  — 
For  none  save  God  can  fill  the  perfect  whole : 
And  are  but  to  eternity  as  is 
The  horizon  to  the  world.     At  certain  points 
Each  seems  the  other ;  now,  the  three  are  one ; 
Now,  all  invisible ;  and  now,  as  first, 
Moving  in  measured  round. 

Clara.     How  look  these  beings  ? 

Festus.     Ah !  Life  looks  gaily  and  gloomily  in 
turns ; 
With  a  brow  chequered  like  the  sward,  by  leaves 


68  FESTUS. 

Between  which  the  light  glints ;  and  she,  careless, 

wears 
A  wreath  of  flowers  —  part  faded  and  part  fresh. 
And  Death  is  beautiful  and  sad  and  still : 
She  seems  too  happy ;  happier  far  than  life  — 
In  but  one  feeling,  apathy :  and  on 
Her  chill  white  brow  frosts  bright,  a  braid  of  snow. 

Clara.     And  Immortality  ? 

Festus.  She  looks  alone ; 

As  though  she  would  not  know  her  sisterhood. 
And  on  her  brow  a  diadem  of  fire, 
Matched  by  the  conflagration  of  her  eye, 
Outflaming  even  that  eye  which  in  my  sleep 
Beams  close  upon  me  till  it  bursts  from  sheer 
O'erstrainedness  of  sight,  burns. 

Clara.  What  do  they  V 

Festus.     Each  strives  to  win  me  to  herself. 

Clara.  How? 

Festus.  Death 

Opens  her  sweet  white  arms  and  whispers,  peace ! 
Come  say  thy  sorrows  in  this  bosom  !     This 
Will  never  close  against  thee  ;  and  my  heart, 
Though  cold,  cannot  be  colder  much  than  man's. 
Come  !  All  this  soon  must  end  !  and  soon  the  world 
Shall  perish  leaf  by  leaf,  and  land  by  land ; 
Flower  by  flower  —  flood  by  flood  —  and  hill 
By  hill,  away ;  Oh !  come,  come  !   Let  us  die. 

Clara.     Say  that  thou  wilt  not  die  ! 

Festus.  Nay,  I  love  Death. 

But  Immortality,  with  finger  spired, 
Points  to  a  distant,  giant  world —  and  says 
There,  there  is  my  home  !    Live  along  with  me  I 

Clara.     Canst  see  that  world  ? 

Festus.  Just — a  huge  shadowy  shape; 

It  looks  a  disembodied  orb  —  the  ghost 
Of  some  great  sphere  which  God  hath  stricken  dead : 
Or  like  a  world  which  God  hath  thought — not  made. 

Clara.    Follow  her,  Festus!     Does  she  speak 
again  ? 


FESTUS.  69 

Festus.     She  never  speaks  but  once ;  and  now, 
in  scorn, 
Foints  to  this  dim,  dwarfed,  misbegotten  sphere. 

Clara.     Why  let  her  pass? 

Festus.  That  is  the  great  world-question. 

Life  would  not  part  with  me ;  and  from  her  brow 
Tearing  her  wreath  of  passion-flowers,  she  flung 
It  round  my  neck  and  dared  me  struggle  then. 
I  never  could  destroy  a  flower :  and  none 
But  fairest  hands  like  thine  can  grace  with  me 
The  plucking  of  a  rose.     And  Life,  sweet  Life ! 
Vowed  she  would  crop  the  world  for  me  and  lay  it 
Herself  before  my  feet  even  as  a  flower. 
And  when  I  felt  that  flower  contained  thyself — 
One  drop  within  its  nectary  kept  for  me, 
I  lost  all  count  of  those  strange  sisters  three ; 
And  where  they  be  I  know  not.     But  I  see 
One  who  is  more  to  me. 

Clara.  I  know  not  how 

Thou  hast  this  power  and  knowledge.     I  but  hope 
It  comes  from  good  hands ;  if  it  be  not  thine 
Own  force  of  mind.     It  is  much  less  what  we  do 
Than  what  we  think,  which  fits  us  for  the  future. 
I  wish  we  had  a  little  world  to  ourselves ; 
With  none  but  we  two  on  it. 

Festus.  And  if  God 

Gave  us  a  star,  what  could  we  do  with  it 
But  that  we  could  without  it  ?     Wish  it  not ! 

Clara.   I  '11  not  wish  then  for  stars ;  but  I  could 
love 
Some  peaceful  spot  where  we  might  dwell  unknown, 
Where   home-born  joys   might   nestle   round   our 

hearts 
As   swallows  round   our  roofs,  —  and  blend  their 

sweets 
Like  dewy-tangled  flowerets  in  one  bed. 

Festus.     The  sweetest  joy,  the  wildest  woe  is 
love ; 
The  taint  of  earth,  the  odor  of  the  skies, 


70  FESTUS. 

Is  in  it.     Would  that  I  were  aught  but  man ! 
The  death  of  brutes,  the  immortality 
Of  fiend  or  angel,  better  seems  than  all 
The  doubtful  prospects  of  our  painted  dust 
And  all  Morality  can  teach  is  —  Bear  ! 
And  all  Religion  can  inspire  is  —  Hope  ! 

Clara.    It  is  enough.     Fruition  of  the  fruit 
Of  the  great  Tree  of  Life,  is  not  for  earth. 
Stars  are  its  fruit,  its  lightest  leaf  is  life. 
The  heart  hath  many  sorrows  beside  love, 
Yea  many  as  the  veins  which  visit  it. 
The  love  of  aught  on  earth  is  not  its  chief 
Nor  ought  to  be.    Inclusive  of  them  all 
There  is  the  one  main  sorrow,  life ;  —  for  what 
Can  spirit,  severed  from  the  great  one,  God, 
Feel  but  a  grievous  longing  to  rejoin 
Its  infinite  —  its  author — and  its  end? 
And  yet  is  life  a  thing  to  be  beloved, 
And  honored  holily,  and  bravely  borne. 
A  man's  life  may  be  all  ease,  and  his  death 
By  some  dark  chance,  unthought  of  agony  :  — 
Or  life  may  be  all  suffering,  and  decease 
A  flower-like  sleep  ;  —  or  both  be  full  of  woe, 
Or  each  comparatively  painless.     Blame 
Not  God  for  inequalities  like  these ! 
They  may  be  justified.     How  canst  thou  know  ? 
They  may  be  only  seeming.     Canst  thou  judge  ? 
They  may  be  done  away  with  utterly 
By  loving,  fearing,  knowing  God  the  Truth. 
In  all  distress  of  spirit,  grief  of  heart, 
Bodily  agony,  or  mental  woe, 
Rebuffs  and  vain  assumptions  of  the  world, 
Or  the  poor  spite  of  weak  and  wicked  souls, 
Think  thou  on  God !     Think  what  he  underwent 
And  did  for  us  as  man.     Weigh  thou  thy  cross 
With  Christ's,  and  judge  which  were  the  heavier. 
Joy  even  in  thine  anguish !  —  such  was  His, 
But  measurelessly  more.    Thy  suffering 
Assimilateth  thee  to  Him.    Rejoice ! 


FESTUS.  71 

Think  upon  what  thou  shalt  be  !    Think  on  God ! 
Then  ask  thyself,  what  is  the  world,  and  all 
Its  mountainous  inequalities?  Ah,  what! 
Are  not  all  equal  as  dust-atomies  ? 

Festus.    My  soul's  orb  darkens   as   a   sudden 
star, 
Which  having  for  a  time  exhausted  earth 
And  half  the  Heavens  of  wonder,  mortally 
Passes  for  ever,  not  eclipsed,  consumed ;  — 
All  but  a  cloudy  vapor  darkening  there, 
The  very  spot  in  space  it  once  illumed. 
Once  to  myself  I  seemed  a  mount  of  light ; 
But  now,  a  pit  of  night,  -r-  No  more  of  this  ! 
Here  have  I  lain  all  day  in  this  green  nook, 
SJiaded  by  larch  and  hornbeam,  ash  and  yew ; 
A  living  well  and  runnel  at  my  feet, 
And  wild  flowers,  dancing  to  some  delicate  air ; 
An  urn-topped  column  and  its  ivy  wreath 
Skirting  my  sight  as  thus  I  lie  and  look 
Upon  the  blue,  unchanging,  sacred  skies : 
Ancf  thou,  too,  gentle  Clara,  by  my  side, 
With  lightsome  brow  and  beaming  eye,  and  bright 
Long  glorious  locks,  which  drop  upon  thy  cheek 
Like  goldhued  cloudflakes  on  the  rosy  morn. 
Oh  !  when  the  heart  is  full  of  sweets  to  o'erflowing, 
And  ringing  to  the  music  of  its  love, 
Who  but  an  angel  or  an  hypocrite 
Could  speak  or  think  of  happier  states  ? 

Clara.  Farewell ! 

Remember  what  thou  saidst  about  the  stars.      [  Goes. 

Festus.    Oh !  why  was  woman  made  so  fair  ?  or 
man 
So  weak  as  to  see  that  more  than  one  had  beauty  ? 
It  is  impossible  to  love  but  one. 
And  yet  I  dare  not  love  thee  as  I  could  ; 
For  all  that  the  heart  most  longs  for  and  deserves, 
Passes  the  soonest  and  most  utterly. 
The  moral  of  the  world's  great  fable,  life. 
All  we  enjoy  seems  given  to  deceive, 


72  FESTUS. 

Or  may  be,  undeceive  us ;  who  cares  which  ? 
And  when  the  sum  is  done,  and  we  have  proved  it, 
Why  work  it  over  and  over  still  again  ? 
I  am  not  what  I  would  be.     Hear  me,  God  ! 
And  speak  to  me  in  thine  invisible  likeness 
The  wind,  as  once  of  yore.     Let  me  be  pure 
Oh !  I  wish  I  was  a  pure  child  again, 
As  ere  the  clear  could  trouble  me  :  when  life 
Was  sweet  and  calm  as  is  a  sister's  kiss ; 
And  not  the  wild  and  whirlwind  touch  of  passion, 
Which  though  it  hardly  light  upon  the  lip, 
With  breathless  swiftness  sucks  the  soul  out  of  sight 
So  that  we  lose  it,  and  all  thought  of  it 
What  is  this  life  wherein  Thou  hast  founded  me, 
But  a  bright  wheel  which  burns  itself  away, 
Benighting  even  night  with  its  grim  limbs, 
When  it  hath  done  and  fainted  into  darkness? 
Flesh  is  but  fiction,  and  it  flies  away ; 
The  gaunt  and  ghastly  thing  we  bear  about  us 
And  which  we  hate  and  fear  to  look  upon 
Is   truth;    in  death's   dark    likeness    limned  —  no 
more. 


Scene  —  Anywhere. 
Festus  and  Lucifer  meeting. 

Festus.    God  hath  refused  me :  wilt  thou  do  it 
for  me  ? 
Or  shall  I  end  with  both  ?  remake  myself? 

Lucifer.   Now  that  is  the  one  thing  which  I 
cannot  do. 
Am  I  not  open  with  thee  ?  why  choose  that  ? 

Festus.   Because  I  will  it.    Thou  art  bound  to 
obey. 

Lucifer.   The  world  bears  marks  of  my  obe- 
dience. 

Festus.    Off!  I  am  torn  to  pieces.    Let  me  try 


FESTUS.  73 

And  gather  up  myself  into  a  man, 

As  once  I  was.   I  have  done  with  thee  !   Dost  hear  ? 

Lucifer.    Thou  canst  not  mean  this. 

Festus.  Once  for  all  —  I  do. 

Lucifer.    It  is  men  who  are  deceivers  —  not 
the  Devil. 
The  first  and  worst  of  all  frauds  is  to  cheat 
Oneself.     All  sin  is  easy  after  that. 

Festus.   I  feel  that  we  must  part:  part  now  or 
never ; 
And  I  had  rather  of  the  two  it  were  now. 

Lucifer.    This  is  my   last   walk   through  my 
favorite  world : 
And  I  had  hoped  to  have  enjoyed  it  with  thee. 
For  thee  I  quitted  Hell ;  for  thee  I  warped 
And  shrivelled  up  my  soul  into  a  man : 
For  thee  I  shed  my  shining  wings  ;  for  thee 
Put  on  this  mask  of  flesh,  this  mockery 
Of  motion,  and  this  seeming  shape  like  thine. 
And  by  my  woe,  I  swear  that  were  I  now, 
For  thy  false  heart,  to  give  my  spirit  spring, 
I  would  scatter  soul  and  body  both  to  Hell, 
And  let  one  burn  the  other. 

Festus.  If  thou  clarest ! 

Lift  but  the  finger  of  a  thought  of  ill 
Against  me,  and  —  thou  durst  not.     Mark,  we  part. 

Lucifer.   Well;  as  thou  wilt.     Remember  that 
thy  heart 
Will  shed  its  pleasures  as  thine  eye  its  tears  ; 
And  both  leave  loathsome  furrows. 

Festus.  Thinkest  thou 

That  I  will  have  no  pleasures  without  thee, 
Who  marrest  all  thou  makest  and  even  more  V 

Lucifer.     Thou  canst  not;   save  indeed  some 
poor  trite  thing 
Called  moderation,  every  one  can  have ; 
And  modesty,  God  knows,  is  suffering. 

Festus.    Now  will  I  prove  thee  liar  for  that 
word, 


74  FESTUS. 

And  that  the  very  vastest  out  of  Hell. 

With  perfect  condemnation  I  abjure 

My  soul ;  my  nature  doth  abhor  itself; 

I  have  a  soul  to  spare  [Goes. 

Lucifer.  A  hundred,  I. 

I  have  him  yet :  for  he  is  mine  to  tempt. 
Gold  hath  the  hue  of  hell  flames  :  but  for  him 
I  will  lay  some  brilliant  and  delicious  lure, 
Which  shall  be  worth  perdition  to  a  seraph. 
Most  men  glide  quietly  and  deeply  down  : 
Some  seek  the  bottom  like  a  cataract. 
Now  he  shall  find  it,  seek  it  how  he  will. 
None  ever  went  without  once  taking  breath. 
It  is  passion  plunges  men  into  mine  arms ; 
But  it  matters  not ;  Hell  burns  before  them  all. 
It  is  by  Hell-light  they  do  their  chiefest  deeds ; 
And  by  Hell-light  they  shine  unto  each  other ; 
And  Hell  through  life's  thick  fog  glares  red  and 

round ; 
And  but  for  Hell  they  would  grope  in  utter  dark. 


Scene  —  A  Country  Town  —  Market-place  —  Noon. 

Lucifer  and  Festus. 

Lucifer.   These  be  the  toils  and  cares  of  mighty 
men. 
Earth's  vermin  are  as  fit  to  fill  her  thrones 
As  these  high  Heaven's  bright  seats. 

Festus.  Men's  callings  all 

Are  mean  and  vain  ;  their  wishes  more  so :  oft 
The  man  is  bettered  by  his  part  or  place. 
How  slight  a  chance  may  raise  or  sink  a  soul ! 

Lucifer.   What  men  call  accident  is  God's  own 
part. 
He  lets  ye  work  your  will  —  it  is  His  own  : 
But  that  ye  mean  not,  know  not,  do  not,  He  doth. 

Festus.  What  is  life  worth  without  a  heart  to  feel 


FESTUS,  75 

The  great  and  lovely,  and  the  poetry 

And  sacredness  of  things  ?  for  all  things  are 

Sacred,  —  the  eye  of  God  is  on  them  all, 

And  hallows  all  unto  it.     It  is  fine 

To  stand  upon  some  lofty  mountain-thought 

And  feel  the  spirit  stretch  into  a  view ; 

To  joy  in  what  might  be  if  will  and  power 

For  good  would  work  together  but  one  hour. 

Yet  millions  never  think  a  noble  thought : 

But  with  brute  hate  of  brightness  bay  a  mind 

Which   drives    the    darkness   out    of   them,    like 

hounds. 
Throw  but  a  false  glare  round  them,  and  in  shoals 
They  rush  upon  perdition  :  that 's  the  race. 
What  charm  is  in  this  world-scene  to  such  minds 
Blinded  by  dust  ?    What  can  they  do  in  Heaven 
A  state  of  spiritual  means  and  ends  ? 
Thus  must  I  doubt  —  perpetually  doubt. 

Lucifer.     Who  never  doubted  never  half  be- 
lieved. 
Where  doubt  there  truth  is  —  't  is  her  shadow.     I 
Declare  unto  thee  that  the  past  is  not. 
I  have  looked  over  all  life,  yet  never  seen 
The  age  that  had  been.     Why  then  fear  or  dream 
About  the  future  V     Nothing  but  what  is,  is ; 
Else  God  were  not  the  Maker  that  He  seems, 
As  constant  in  creating  as  in  being. 
Embrace  the  present !     Let  the  future  pass. 
Plague  not  thyself  about  a  future.     That 
Only  which  comes  direct  from  God,  His  spirit, 
Is  deathless.    Nature  gravitates  without 
Effort;   and  so  all  mortal  natures  fall 
Deathwards.     All  aspiration  is  a  toil ; 
But  inspiration  cometh  from  above, 
And  is  no  labor.     The  earth's  inborn  strength 
Could  never  lift  her  up  to  yon  stars,  whence 
She  fell ;  nor  human  soul,  by  native  worth, 
Claim  Heaven  as  birthright,  more  than  man  may 
call 


76  FESTUS. 

Cloudland  his  home.     The  soul's  inheritance, 
Its  birth-place,  and  its  death-place,  is  of  earth, 
Until  God  maketh  earth  and  soul  anew ; 
The  one  like  Heaven,  the  other  like  Himself. 
So  shall  the  new  Creation  come  at  once ; 
Sin,  the  dead  branch  upon  the  tree  of  Life, 
Shall  be  cut  off  forever ;  and  all  souls 
Concluded  in  God's  boundless  amnesty. 

Festus.     Thou  windest  and  unwindest  faith  at 
will. 
What  am  I  to  believe  ? 

Lucifer.  Thou  mayst  believe 

But  that  which  thou  art  forced  to. 

Festus.  Then  I  feel 

That  instinct  of  immortal  life  in  me, 
Which  prompts  me  to  provide  for  it. 

Lucifer.  Perhaps. 

Festus.    Man  hath  a  knowledge  of  a  time  to 
come  — 
His  most  important  knowledge  :  the  weight  lies 
Nearest  the  short  end  ;  and  the  world  depends 
Upon  what  is  to  be.     I  would  deny 
The  present,  if  the  future.     Oh !  there  is 
A  life  to  come,  or  all 's  a  dream. 

Lucifer.  And  all 

May  be  a  dream.     Thou  seest  in  thine,  men,  deeds, 
Clear,  moving,  full  of  speech  and  order  ;  then 
Why  may  not  all  this  world  be  but  a  dream 
Of  God's?     Fear  not!     Some  morning  God  may 
waken. 

Festus.    I  would  it  were.    This  life 's  a  mystery. 
The  value  of  a  thought  cannot  be  told  ; 
But  it  is  clearly  worth  a  thousand  lives 
Like  many  men's.     And  yet  men  love  to  live 
As  if  mere  life  were  worth  their  living  for. 
What  but  perdition  will  it  be  to  most  ? 
Life's  more  than  breath  and  the  quick  round  of 

blood, 
It  is  a  great  spirit  and  a  busy  heart. 


FESTUS.  77 

The  coward  and  the  small  in  soul  scarce  do  live. 

One  generous  feeling  —  one  great  thought  —  one 
deed 

Of  good,  ere  night,  would  make  life  longer  seem 

Than  if  each  year  might  number  a  thousand  days, — 

Spent  as  is  this  by  nations'  of  mankind. 

We   live   in   deeds,  not   years;    in   thoughts,   not 
breaths ; 

In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 

We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.     He  most 
lives 

Who  thinks  most  —  feels  the   noblest  —  acts  the 
best. 

Life 's  but  a  means  unto  an  end  —  that  end, 

Beginning,  mean  and  end  to  all  things  —  God. 

The  dead  have  all  the  glory  of  the  world. 

Why  will  we  live  and  not  be  glorious  V 

We  never  can  be  deathless  till  we  die. 

It  is  the  dead  win  battles.     And  the  breath 

Of  those  who  through  the  world  drive  like  a  wedge, 

Tearing  earth's  empires  up,  nears  death  so  close 

It  dims  his  well-worn  scythe.     But  no  !  the  brave 
Die  never.     Being  deathless,  they  but  change 
Their  country's  arms   for   more  —  their   country's 

heart. 
Give  then  the  dead  their  due ;  it  is  they  who  saved 

us. 
The  rapid  and  the  deep  — the  fall,  the  gulph 
Have  likenesses  in  feeling  and  in  life. 
And  life  so  varied,  hath  more  loveliness 
In  one  day  than  a  creeping  century 
Of  sameness.     But  youth  loves  and  lives  on  change 
Till  the  soul  sighs  for  sameness ;  which  at  last 
Becomes  variety,  and  takes  its  place. 
Yet  some  will  last  to  die  oufr  thought  by  thought, 
And  power  by  power,  and  limb  of  mind  by  limb, 
Like  lambs  upon  a  gay  device  of  glass, 
Till  all  of  soul  that 's  left  be  dry  and  dark ; 
Till  even  the  burden  of  some  ninety  years 


78  FESTUS. 

Hath  crashed  into  them  like  a  rock ;  shattered 
Their  system  as  if  ninety  suns  had  rushed 
To  ruin  earth  —  or  Heaven  had  rained  its  stars ; 
Till  they  become,  like  scrolls,  unreadable 
Through  dust  and  mould.     Can  they  be  cleaned 

and  read  ? 
Do  human  spirits  wax  and  wane  like  moons  ! 

Lucifer.     The  eye  dims  and  the  heart  gets  old 

and  slow ; 
The  lithe  limb  stiffens,  and  the  sun-hued  locks 
Thin  themselves  off,  or  whitely  wither ;  —  still 
Ages  not  spirit,  even  in  one  point, 
Immeasurably  small ;  from  orb  to  orb, 
In  ever  rising  radiance,  shining  like 
The  sun  upon  the  thousand  lands  of  earth. 
Look  at  the  medley,  motley  throng  we  meet ! 
Some  smiling — frowning  some ;  their  cares  and  joys 
Alike    not  worth    a    thought  —  some    sauntering 

slowly 
As  if  destruction  never  could  o'ertake  them ; 
Some  hurrying  on  as  fearing  judgment  swift 
Should  trip  the   heels   of  Heath   and  seize  them 

living. 
Festus.    Grief  hallows  hearts  even  while  it  ages 

heads ; 
And  much  hot  grief,  in  youth,  forces  up  life 
With  power  which  too  soon  ripens  and  which  drops. 

\_A  funeral  passes. 
Whose  funeral  is  this  ye  follow,  friends  ? 

Lucifer.     Would  ye  have  grief,  let  me  come ! 

I  am  woe. 
Mourner.      We  want  no  grief:    Festus!    she 

died  of  grief. 
Festus.     Hid  ye  say  she  died  ?  oh !  I  knew  her 

then. 
Set  down  the  body ;  let  me  look  upon  her ! 
Now,  Son  of  God !  what  dost  Thou  now  in  heaven 
While  one  so  beautiful  lies  earthening  here  ? 
I  will  give  up  the  future  for  the  past ; 


FESTUS.  79 

The  winged  spirit  and  the  starry  home 
If  Thou  wilt  let  her  live,  and  make  me  love. 
Mourner.     She  was  a  lock  of  Heaven  which 

Heaven  gave  earth, 
And  took  again,  because  unworthy  of  her. 

Festus.      Her   air  was  an  immortal's ;   I  have 

seen 
Stars  look  on  it  with  feeling ;  and  her  eye, 
Wherever  she  went,  it  won  her  way  like  wine. 
Men  bowed  to  it  as  to  the  lifted  Host. 
How  could  I  be  so  cruel  ?     Who  but  I  ? 
And  now,  corruption,  come;  sit;  feast  thyself! 
This  is  the  choicest  banquet  thou  hast  been  at. 
Thou  art  my  happier,  only  rival :  thou 
Who    takest    love    from    the    living  —  life    from 

beauty  — 
Beauty  from  death  —  whole  robber  of  the  world  ! 
Mourner.     The  moment  after  thou  desertedst 

her 
A  cloud  came  o'er  the  prospect  of  her  life ; 
And  I  foresaw  how  evening  would  set  in, 
Early  and  dark  and  deadly.     She  was  true. 

Festus.    Did  I  not  love  thee  too  ?  pure !  perfect 

thing ! 
This  is  a  soul  I  see  and  not  a  body. 
Go,  beauty,  rest  for  aye  ;  go,  starry  eyes, 
And  lips  like  rosebuds  peeping  out  of  snow ; 
Go,  breast  love-filled  as  a  boat's  sail  with  wind, 
Leaping  from  wave  to  wave  as  leaps  a  child 
Thoughtless  o'er  grassy  graves;   go,  locks,  which 

have 
The  golden  embrownment  of  a  lion's  eye  ! 
Yet  one  more  look ;  farewell,  thou  well  and  fair  ! 
All  who  but  loved  thee  shall  be  deathless.     Nought 
Named  but  with  thee  can  perish.     Thou  and  Death 
Have  made  each  other  purer,  lovelier,  seem, 
Like  snow  and  moonlight.     Never  more  for  thee 
Let  eyes  be  swollen  like  streams  with  latter  rains ! 
To  die  were  rapture  having  lived  with  thee. 


80  FESTUS. 

Thy  soul  hath  passed  out  of  a  bodily  Heaven 

Into  a  spiritual.     Rest  for  aye  !  — 

Pure  as  the  dead,  in  life  the  dead  are  holy. 

I  would  I  were  among  them.     Let  us  pass ! 

Living  is  but  a  habit ;  and  I  mean 

To  break  myself  of  it  soon. 

Lucifer.  Too  soon  thou  canst  not. 

Men  heed  not  of  the  day,  how  nigh  none  knows, 
Which  brings  the  consummation  of  the  world. 
But  in  my  ear  the  old  machine  already 
Begins  to  grate.     They  would  not  credit  warning, 
Or  I  would  up  and  cry,  Repent !     I  will. 
Here  is  a  fair  gathering  and  I  feel  moved. 
Mortals,  Repent !  the  world  is  nigh  to  its  end  ; 
On  its  last  legs  and  desperately  sick. 
See  ye  not  how  it  reels  round  all  day  long  ? 

Boys.     Oh !  here 's  a  ranter.     Come,  here 's  fun. 
Amen! 
I  know  the  church  service  by  heart. 

Bystander.  Be  off! 

You  '11  serve  the  church  by  keeping  out  of  it. 

Lucifer.     I  am  a  preacher  come  to  tell  ye  truth. 
I  tell  ye  too  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost ; 
So  fold  your  souls  up  neatly,  while  ye  may ; 
Direct  to  God  in  Heaven  ;  or  some  one  else 
May  seize  them,  seal  them,  send  them  —  you  know 

where. 
The  world  must  end.     I  weep  to  think  of  it. 
But  you,  you  laugh  !  I  knew  ye  would.     I  know 
Men  never  will  be  wise  till  they  are  fools 
For  ever.     Laugh  away !     The  time  will  come, 
When  tears  of  fire  are  trickling  from  your  eyes, 
Ye  will  blame  yourselves  for  having  laughed  at  me. 
I  warn  ye,  men :  prepare  !  repent !  be  saved ! 
I  warn  ye,  not  because  I  love,  but  know  ye. 
God  will  dissolve  the  world,  as  she  of  old 
Her  pearl,  within  His  cup  and  swallow  ye 
In  wrath :  although  to  taste  ye  would  be  poison, 
And  death  and  suicide  to  aught  but  God. 


FESTUS.  81 

Again  I  warn  ye.     Save  himself  who  can  ! 

Do  ye  not  oft  begin  to  seek  salvation  ? 

You  ?  you  ?  and  fail,  as  oft,  to  find  ?  Sink  ?  Cease ! 

And  shall  I  tell  ye,  brethren,  why  ye  fail 

Once  and  for  ever  ?  why,  there  is  no  past ; 

And  the  future  is  the  fiction  of  a  fiction ; 

The  present  moment  is  eternity  ; 

It  is  that  ye  have  sucked  corruption  from  the  world 

Like  milk  from  your  own  mothers :  it  is  in 

Your  soul-blood  and  your  soul-bones.     Earth  does 

not 
Wean  one  out  of  a  thousand  sons  to  Heaven. 
Beginnings  are  alike  :  it  is  ends  which  differ. 
One  drop  falls,  lasts,  and  dries  up  —  but  a  drop  ; 
Another  begins  a  river :  and  one  thought 
Settles  a  life,  an  immortality  : 
And  that  one  thought  ye  will  not  take  to  good. 
Now  I  will  tell  ye  just  one  other  truth : 
Ye  hate  the  truth  as  snails  salt  —  it  dissolves  ye, 
Body  and  soul  —  but  I  don't  mind.     So,  now : 
Up  to  this  moment  ye  are  all,  each,  damned. 
What  are  ye  now  ?  still  damned !    It  will  be  the 

same 
To-morrow  —  and  the  next  day —  and  the  next : 
Till  some  fine  morning  ye  will  wake  in  fire. 
Ye  see  I  do  not  mince  the  truth  for  ye. 
Belike  ye  think  your  lives  will  dribble  out 
As  brooks  in  summer  dry  up.     Let  us  see  ! 
Try:   dike   them   up:   they   stagnate  —  thicken  — 

scum. 
That  would  make  life  worse  than   death.     Well, 

let  go ! 
Where  are  ye  then  ?  for  life,  like  water,  will 
Find  its  last  level :  what  level  ?     The  grave. 
It  is  but  a  fall  of  five  feet  after  all ; 
That  cannot  hurt  ye ;  it  is  but  just  enough 
To  work  the  wheel  of  life ;  so  work  away  ! 
Ye  may  think  that  I  do  not  know  the  terms 
And  treasures  whereupon  ye  live  so  high. 
G 


82  FESTUS. 

But  I  know  more  than  most  men,  modestly 

Speaking.     I  know  I  am  lost,  and  ye  too.     God 

Could  only  save  me  by  destroying  me ; 

So  that  I  have  no  advantage  over  you. 

And  therefore  think  ye  will  the  rather  bear 

One  of  your  own  state  to  advise  for  ye. 

Now  don't  you  envy  me,  good  folks,  I  pray, — 

Envy 's  a  coal  comes  hissing  hot  from  hell. 

'T  will  be  such  coals  will  burn  ye  by  the  way. 

Your  other  preachers  first  think  they  are  safe. 

Now  I  say,  broadly,  I  am  the  worst  among  ye ; 

And  God  knows  I  have  no  need  to  wronglmysclf, 

Nor  you.     I  boast  not  of  it,  but  as  truth  : 

It  is  little  to  be  proud  of,  credit  me. 

What  is  salvation  ?     What  is  safety?     Think ! 

Who  wants  to  know  ?     Does  any  ? 

The  Crowd.  All  of  us. 

Lucifer.     Then  I  will  not  tell  ye.     You  shall 
wait  until 
Some  angel  come  and  stir  your  stagnant  souls  : 
Then  plunge  into  yourselves  and  rise  redeemed. 
Come,  I'll  unroll  your  hearts  and  read  them  to  ye. 
To  say  ye  live  is  but  to  say  ye  have  souls, 
That  ye  have  paid  for  them  and  mean  to  play  them, 
Till  some  brave  pleasure  wins  the  golden  stake, 
And  rakes  it  up  to  death  as  to  a  bank. 
Ye  live  and  die  on  what  your  souls  will  fetch ; 
And  all  are  of  different  prices  :  therefore  Hell 
Cannot  well  bargain  for  mankind  in  gross ; 
But  each  soul  must  be  purchased,  one  by  one. 
This  it  is  makes  men  rate  themselves  so  high  : 
While  truly  ye  are  worth  little  :  but  to  God 
Ye  are  worth  more  than  to  yourselves.     By  sin 
Ye  wreak  your  spite  against  God  —  that  ye  know : 
And  knowing,  will  it.     But  I  pray,  I  beg, 
Act  with  some  smack  of  justice  to  your  Maker, 
If  not  unto  yourselves.     Do  !     It  is  enough 
To  make  the  very  Devil  chide  mankind  — 
Such  baseness,  such  unthankfulness !    Why  he 


FESTUS.  83 

Thanks  God  he  is  no  worse.     You  don't  do  that. 

I  say  be  just  to  God.     Leave  oft*  these  airs. 

Know  your  place  —  speak  to  God  —  and  say,  for 

once, 
Go  first,  Lord  !  Take  your  finger  off  your  eye  ! 
It  blocks  the  universe  and  God  from  sight. 
Think  ye  your  souls  are  worth  nothing  to  God  ? 
Are  they  so  small  ?   AVhat  can  be  great  with  God  ? 
What  will  ye  weigh  against  the  Lord  ?    Yourselves  ? 
Bring  out  your  balance  :  get  in,  man  by  man  : 
Add  earth,  heaven,  hell,  the  universe;  that's  all. 
God  puts  his  finger  in  the  other  scale, 
And  up  we  bounce,  a  bubble.     Nought  is  great 
Nor  small  with  God  —  for  none  but  He  can  make 
The  atom  indivisible,  and  none 
But  He  can  make  a  world :  He  counts  the  orbs, 
He  counts  the  atoms  of  the  universe, 
And  makes  both  equal  —  both  are  infinite. 
Giving  God  honor,  never  underrate 
Yourselves :  after  Him  ye  are  every  thing. 
But  mind !  God 's  more  than  every  thing ;  He  is  God.  ■ 
And  what  of  me?  No,  us?  no!  I  mean  the  Devil? 
Why  see  ye  not  he  goes  before  both  you 
And  God  ?    Men  say  —  as  proud  as  Lucifer  — 
Pray  who  would  not  be  proud  with  such  a  train  ? 
Hath  he  not  all  the  honor  of  the  earth  ? 
Why  Mammon  sits  before  a  million  hearths 
Where  God  is  bolted  out  from  every  house. 
Well  might  He  say  He  cometh  as  a  thief; 
For  He  will  break  your  bars  and  burst  your  doors 
Which  slammed  against  him  once,  and  turn  ye  out, 
Roofless   and    shivering,   'neath    the   doom-storm; 

Heaven 
Shall  crack  above  ye  like  a  bell  in  fire, 
And  bury  all  beneath  its  shining  shards. 
He  calls :  ye  hear  not.     Lo !  he  comes — ye  see  not. 
No ;  ye  are  deaf  as  a  dead  adder's  ear : 
No  ;  ye  are  blind  as  never  bat  was  blind, 
With  a  burning  bloodshot  blindness  of  the  heart ; 


84  FESTUS. 

A  swimming,  swollen  senselessness  of  soul. 

Listen !  Whom  love  ye  most  ?  Why  him  to  whom 

Ye  in  your  turn  are  dearest.     Need  I  name  ? 

Oh  no !    But  all  are  devils  to  themselves  ; 

And  every  man  his  own  great  foe.     Hell  gets 

Only  the  gleanings ;  earth  hath  the  full  wain  ; 

And  hell  is  merry  at  its  harvest  home. 

But  ye  are  generous  to  sin  and  grudge 

The  gleaners  nothing ;  ask  them,  push  them  m. 

Let  not  an  ear,  a  grain  of  sin  be  lost ; 

Gather  it,  grind  it  up  ;  it  is  our  bread  : 

We  should  be  ashamed  to  waste  the  gifts  of  God. 

Why  is  the  world  so  mad  ?  Why  runs  it  thus 

Raving  and  howling  round  the  universe  ? 

Because  the  Devil  bit  it  from  the  birth  ! 

The  fault  is  all  with  him.     Fear  nothing,  friends ! 

It  is  fear  which  beds  the  far  to-come  with  fire 

As  the  sun  does  the  west :  but  the  sun  sets ; 

Well ;  still  ye  tremble  —  tremble,  first  at  light, 

Then  darkness.     Tremble  !  ye  dare  not  believe. 

No,  cowards !  sooner  than  believe  ye  would  die ; 

Die  with  the  black  lie  flapping  on  your  lips 

Like  the  soot-flake  upon  a  burning  bar. 

Be  merry,  happy  if  ye  can  :  think  never 

Of  him  who  slays  your  souls,  nor  Him  who  saves. 

There  is  time  enough  for  that  when  ye  are  a-dying 

Keep  your  old  ways !   It  matters  not  this  once. 

Be  brave  !     Ye  are  not  men  whom  meat  and  wine 

Serve  to  remind  but  of  the  sacrament ; 

To  whom  sweet  shapes  and  tantalizing  smiles 

Bring  up  the  Devil  and  the  ten  commandments  — 

And  so  on  —  but  I  said  the  world  must  end. 

I  am  sorry  ;  it  is  such  a  pleasant  world  : 

With  all  its  faults  it  is  perfect  —  to  a  fault : 

And  you,  of  course,  end  with  it.     Now  how  long 

Will  the  world  take  to  die  ?     I  know  ye  place 

Great  faith  upon  death-bed  repentances ; 

The  suddener  the  better.    I  know  ye  often 

Begin  to  think  of  praying  and  repenting ; 


FESTUS.  85 

But  second  thoughts  come  and  ye  are  worse  than 

ever ; 
As  over  new  white  snow  a  filthy  thaw. 
Ye  do  amaze  me  verily.     How  long 
Will  ye  take  heart  on  your  own  wickedness, 
And  God's  forbearance  ?     Have  ye  cast  it  up  ? 
Come  now;   the  year  and   month,  day,  hour  and 

minute, 
Sin's  golden  cycle.     Do  ye  know  how  long 
Exactly  Heaven  will  grant  ye  ?   how  long  God,  — 
Who  when  he  had  slain  the  world  and  wasted  it, 
Hung  up  His  bow  in  Heaven,  as  in  his  hall 
A  warrior  after  battle  —  will  yet  bear 
Your  contumely  and  scorn  of  His  best  gifts, — 
Man's  mockery  of  man  ?     But  never  mind  ! 
Some  of  us  are  magnificently  good, 
And  hold  the  head  up  high  like  a  giraiFe  ; 
You,  in  particular,  and  you  —  and  you. 
Good  men  are  here  and  there,  I  know;  but  then, — 
You  must  excuse  me  if  I  mention  this  — 
My  duty  is  to  tell  it  you — the  world, 
Like  a  black  block  of  marble,  jagged  with  white, 
As  with  a  vein  of  lightning  petrified, 
Looks  blacker  than  without  such ;  looks  in  truth, 
So  gross  the  heathen,  gross  the  Christian  too  — 
Like  the  original  darkness  of  void  space, 
Hardened.     Instead  of  justice,  love  and  grace, 
Each  worth  to  man  the  mission  of  a  God, 
Injustice,  hate,  uncharitableness, 
Triequal  reign  round  earth,  a  Trinity  of  Hell. 
Ye  think  ye  never  can  be  bad  enough : 
And  as  ye  sink  in  sin,  ye  rise  in  hope. 
And  let  the  worst  come  to  the  worst,  you  say, 
There  always  will  be  time  to  turn  ourselves, 
And  cry  for  half  an  hour  or  so  to  God : 
Salvation,  sure,  is  not  so  very  hard  — 
It  need  not  take  one  long ;  and  half  an  hour 
Is  quite  as  much  as  we  can  spare  for  it. 
We  have  no  time  for  pleasures.   Business !  business ! 


No !  ye  shall  perish  sudden  and  unsaved. 
The  priest  shall,  dipping,  die.    Can  man  save  man  ? 
Is  water  God  ?     The  counsellor,  wise  fool ! 
Drop  down  amid  his  quirks  and  sacred  lies — 
The  judge,  while  dooming  unto  death  some  wretch, 
Shall  meet  at  once  his  own  death,  doom,  and  judge. 
The  doctor,  watch  in  hand,  and  patient's  pulse, 
Shall  feel  his  own  heart  cease  its  beats — and  fall: 
Professors  shall  spin  out,  and  students  strain 
Their  brains  no  more  ;  art,  science,  toil  shall  cease. 
The  world  shall  stand  still  with  a  rending  jar, 
As  though  it  struck  at  sea.     The  halls  where  sit 
The  heads  of  nations  shall  be  dumb  with  death. 
The  ship  shall  after  her  own  plummet  sink, 
And  sound  the  sea  herself  and  depths  of  death. 
At  the  first  turn  Death  shall  cut  off  the  thief, 
And  dash  the  gold  bag  in  his  yellow  brain. 
The  gambler,  reckoning  gains,  shall  drop  a  piece ; 
Stoop  down  and  there  see  death; — look  up,  there 

God. 
The  wanton,  temporizing  with  decay, 
And  qualifying  every  line  which  vice 
Writes  bluntly  on  the  brow,  inviting  scorn, 
Shall  pale  through   plastered  red:    and  the  loose, 

low  sot 
See  clear,  for  once,  through  his  misty,  o'erbrimmed 

eye- 
The  just,  if  there  be  any,  die  in  prayer. 
Death  shall  be  everywhere  among  your  marts, 
And  giving  bills  which  no  man  may  decline  — 
Drafts  upon  Hell  one  moment  after  date. 
Then  shall  your  outcries  tremble  amid  the  stars  : 
Terrors  shall  be  about  ye  like  a  wind  : 
And  fears  come  down  upon  ye  like  a  house. 

Festus.     Yon  man  looks  frightened. 

Lucifer.  Then  it  is  time  to  stop. 

I  hope  I  have  done  no  good.  He  will  soon  forget 
His  soul.  Flesh  soaks  it  up  as  sponge  does  water. 
Now  wait !  I  will  rub  them  backwards  Hk*i  a  cat; 


FESTUS.  87 

And  you  shall  see  them  spit  and  sparkle  up. 
Let  us  suppose  a  case,  friends !     You  are  men  ; 
And  there  is  God  !  and  I  will  be  the  Devil. 
Very  well.     I  am  the  Devil. 

One  says.  I  think  you  are. 

You  look  as  if  you  lived  on  buttered  thunder. 

Lucifer.    Nay,  be  not  wroth.    Ye  would  crucify 
the  Devil, 
I  do  believe,  if  he  a  moment  vexed  you. 
I  know  well  which  ye  choose  :  but  choose  again ! 
Time  or  eternity  ?     Speak,  Hell  or  Heaven  ? 

The  Crowd.     He 's  a  mad  ranter :  down  with 
him !  — 

Festus.  Let  him  be  ! 

Lucifer.     Stand  by  me,  Festus,  and  I  will  by 
thee. 
Why,  God  and  man !  this  is  the  second  time 
That  I  have  run  for  my  life. 

Festus.  Nay,  nay,  come  back ! 

They  will  not  harm  thee:  they  would  chair  thee 

round 
The  market-place,  knew  they  but  whom  thou  art. 
Peace,  there  my  friends !  one  minute ;  let  us  pray  ! 
Grant  us,  oh  God  !  that  in  thy  holy  love 
The  universal  people  of  the  world 
May  grow  more  great  and  happy  every  day ; 
Mightier,  wiser,  humbler,  too,  towards  Thee. 
And  that  all  ranks,  all  classes,  callings,  states 
Of  life,  so  far  as  such  seem  right  to  Thee, 
May  mingle  into  one,  like  sister  trees, 
And  so  in  one  stem  flourish :  — that  all  laws 
And  powers  of  government  be  based  and  used 
In  good  and  for  the  people's  sake  ;  —  that  each 
May  feel  himself  of  consequence  to  all, 
And  act  as  though  all  saw  him  ;  —  that  the  whole, 
The  mass  of  every  nation  may  so  do 
As  is  most  worthy  of  the  next  to  God ; 
For  a  whole  people's  souls,  each  one  worth  more 
Than  a  mere  world  of  matter,  make  combined, 


88  FESTUS. 

A  something  godlike  —  something  like  to  Thee. 

We  pray  thee  for  the  welfare  of  all  men. 

Let  monarchs  who  love  truth  and  freedom  feel 

The  happiness  of  safety  and  respect 

From  those  they  rule,  and  guardianship  from  Thee. 

Let  them  remember  they  are  set  on  thrones 

As  representatives,  not  substitutes 

Of  nations,  to  implead  with  God  and  man. 

Let  tyrants  who  hate  truth,  or  fear  the  free, 

Know  that  to  rule  in  slavery  and  error, 

For  the  mere  ends  of  personal  pomp  and  power, 

Is  such  a  sin  as  doth  deserve  a  hell 

To  itself  sole.     Let  both  remember,  Lord  ! 

They  are  but  things  like-natured  with  all  nations; 

That  mountains  issue  out  of  plains,  and  not 

Plains  out  of  mountains,  and  so  likewise  kings 

Are  of  the  people,  not  the  people  of  kings. 

And  let  all  feel,  the  rulers  and  the  ruled, 

All  classes  and  all  countries,  that  the  world 

Is  Thy  great  halidom  ;  that  Thou  art  King, 

Lord  !  only  owner  and  possessor.     Grant 

That  nations  may  now  see,  it  is  not  kings, 

Nor  priests  they  need  fear  so  much  as  themselves ; 

That  if  they  keep  but  true  to  themselves,  and  free, 

Sober,  enlightened,  godly  —  mortal  men 

Become  impassible  as  air,  one  great 

And  indestructible  substance  as  the  sea. 

Let  all  on  thrones  and  judgment-seats  reflect 

How  dreadful  Thy  revenge  through  nations  is 

On  those  who  wrong  them;  but  do  Thou  grant, 

Lord  ! 
That  when  wrongs  are  to  be  redressed,  such  may 
Be  done  with  mildness,  speed,  and  firmness,  not 
With  violence  or  hate,  whereby  one  wrong 
Translates  another  —  both  to  Thee  abhorrent. 
The  bells  of  time  are  ringing  changes  fast. 
Grant,  Lord  !  that  each  fresh  peal  may  usher  in 
An  era  of  advancement,  that  each  change 
Prove  an  effectual,  lasting,  happy  gain. 


FESTUS.  89 

And  we  beseech  Thee,  overrule,  oh  God  ! 
All  civil  contests  to  the  good  of  all: 
All  party  and  religious  difference 
To  honorable  ends,  whether  secured 
Or  lost ;  and  let  all  strife,  political 
Or  social,  spring  from  conscientious  aims, 
And  have  a  generous  self-ennobling  end, 
Man's  good  and  Thine  own  glory  in  view  always ! 
The  best  may  then  fail  and  the  worst  succeed 
Alike  with  honor.     We  beseech  Thee,  Lord ! 
For  bodily  strength,  but  more  especially 
For  the  soul's  health  and  safety.    We  entreat  Thee 
In  thy  great  mercy  to  decrease  our  wants, 
And  add  autumnal  increase  to  the  comforts 
Which  tend  to  keep  men  innocent,  and  load 
Their  hearts  with  thanks  to  Thee  as  trees  in  bear- 
ing:— 
The  blessings  of  friends,  families,  and  homes, 
And  kindnesses  of  kindred.     And  we  pray 
That  men  may  rule  themselves  in  faith  in  God, 
In  charity  to  each  other,  and  in  hope 
Of  their  own  souls'  salvation  :  —  that  the  mass, 
The  millions  in  all  nations  may  be  trained, 
From  their  youth  upwards,  in  a  nobler  mode, 
To  loftier  and  more  liberal  ends.     We  pray 
Above  all  things,  Lord !  that  all  men  be  free 
From  bondage,  whether  of  the  mind  or  body ;  — ■ 
The  bondage  of  religious  bigotry, 
And  bald  antiquity,  servility 
Of  thought  or  speech  to  rank  and  power ;  be  all 
Free  as  they  ought  to  be  in  mind  and  soul 
As  well  as  by  state-birthright ;  —  and  that  Mind, 
Time's  giant  pupil,  may  right  soon  attain 
Majority,  and  speak  and  act  for  himself! 
Incline  Thou  to  our  prayers,  and  grant,  oh  Lord ! 
That  all  may  have  enough,  and  some  safe  mean 
Of  worldly  goods  and  honors,  by  degrees, 
Take  place,  if  practicable,  in  the  fitness 
And  fulness  of  Thy  time.     And  we  beseech  Thee, 


90  FESTUS. 

That   Truth   no  more  be  gagged,  nor  conscience 

dungeoned, 
Nor  science  be  impeached  of  godlessness, 
Nor  faith  be  circumscribed,  which  as  to  Thee, 
And  the  soul's  self  aifairs  is  infinite ; 
But  that  all  men  may  have  due  liberty 
To  speak  an  honest  mind,  in  every  land, 
Encouragement  to  study,  leave  to  act 
As  conscience  orders.     We  entreat  Thee,  Lord ! 
For  Thy  Son's  sake  to  take  away  reproach 
Of  all  kinds  from  Thy  church,  and  all  temptation 
Of  pomp  or  power  political,  that  none 
May  err  in  the  end  for  which  they  were  appointed 
To  any  of  its  orders,  low  or  high ; 
And  no  ambition,  of  a  worldly  cast, 
Leaven  the  love  of  souls  unto  whose  care 
They  feel  propelled  by  Thy  most  holy  spirit. 
Be  every  church  established,  Lord !  in  truth. 
Let  all  who  preach  the  word,  live  by  the  word, 
In  moderate  estate ;  and  in  Thy  church,  — 
One,  universal,  and  invisible 
World-wards,  yet  manifest  unto  itself, 
May  it  seem  good,  dear  Saviour,  in  Thy  sight, 
That  orders  be  distinguished,  not  by  wealth, 
But  piety  and  poiver  of  teaching  souls. 
Equalize  labor,  Lord  !  and  recompense. 
Let  not  a  hundred  humble  pastors  starve, 
in  this  or  any  land  of  Christendom, 
While  one  or  two,  impalaced,  mitred,  throned 
And  banqueted,  burlesque  if  not  blaspheme 
The  holy  penury  of  the  Son  of  God  ; 
The  fastings,  the  foot-wanderings,  and  the  preach- 
ings 
Of  Christ  and  His  first  followers.     Oh  that  the  Son 
Might  come  again  !     There  should  be  no  more  war, 
No  more  want,  no  more  sickness ;  with  a  touch, 
He  should  cure  all  diseases,  and  with  a  word, 
All  sin ;  and  with  a  look  to  Pleaven,  a  prayer, 
Provide  bread  for  a  million  at  a  time. 


FKSTUS.  91 

But  till  that  perfect  advent  grant  us,  Lord  ! 

That  all  good  institutions,  orders,  claims, 

Charitably  proposed,  or  in  the  aid 

Of  Thy  divine  foundation,  may  much  prosper, 

And  more  of  them  be  raised  and  nobly  filled ;  — 

That  Thy  word  may  be  taught  throughout  all  lands, 

And  save  souls  daily  to  the  thrones  of  Heaven  !  — 

And  we  entreat  Thee,  that  all  men  whom  Thou 

Hast  gifted  with  great  minds  may  love  Thee  well, 

And  praise  Thee  for  their  powers,  and  use  them  most 

Humbly  and  holily,  and,  lever-like, 

Act  but  in  lifting  up  the  mass  of  mind 

About  them  ;  knowing  well  that  they  shall  be 

Questioned  by  thee  of  deeds  the  pen  hath  done, 

Or  caused,  or  glozed ;  inspire  them  with  delight 

And  power  to  treat  of  noble  themes  and  things, 

Worthily,  and  to  leave  the  low  and  mean  — 

Things  born  of  vice  or  day-lived  fashion,  in 

Their  naked  native  folly ;  —  make  them  know 

Fine  thoughts  are  wealth,  for  the  right  use  of  which 

Men  are  and  ought  to  be  accountable,  — 

If  not  to  Thee,  to  those  they  influence  : 

Grant  this  we  pray  Thee,  and  that  all  who  read, 

Or  utter  noble  thoughts,  may  make  them  theirs, 

And  thank  God  for  them,  to  the  betterment 

Of  their  succeeding  life ;  —  that  all  who  lead 

The  general  sense  and  taste,  too  apt,  perchance, 

To  be  led,  keep  in  mind  the  mighty  good 

They  may  achieve,  and  are  in  conscience,  bound, 

And  duty,  to  attempt  unceasingly 

To  compass.     Grant  us,  All-maintaining  Sire  ! 

That  all  the  great  mechanic  aids  to  toil 

Man's  skill  hath  formed,  found,  rendered,  —  whether 

used 
In  multiplying  works  of  mind,  or  aught 
To  obviate  the  thousand  wants  of  life, 
May  much  avail  to  human  welfare  now 
And  in  all  ages,  henceforth  and  for  ever ! 
Let  their  effect  be,  Lord  !  to  lighten  labor, 


92  FESTUS. 

And  give  more  room  to  mind,  and  leave  the  poor 

Some  time  for  self-improvement.     Let  them  not 

Be  forced  to  grind  the  bones  out  of  their  arms 

For  bread,  but  have  some  space  to  think  and  feel 

Like  moral  and  immortal  creatures.     God  ! 

Have  mercy  on  them  till  such  time  shall  come ; 

Look  Thou  with  pity  on  all  lesser  crimes, 

Thrust  on  men  almost  when  devoured  by  want, 

Wretchedness,  ignorance  and  outcast  life  ! 

Have  mercy  on  the  rich,  too,  who  pass  by 

The  means  they  have  at  hand  to  fill  their  minds 

With  serviceable  knowledge  for  themselves, 

And  fellows,  and  support  not  the  good  cause 

Of  the  world's  better  future  !  Oh  reward 

All  such  who  do,  with  peace  of  neart  and  power 

For  greater  good.     Have  mercy,  Lord  !  on  each 

And  all,  tor  ail  men  neei  it  equally. 

May  peace  and  industry  and  commerce  weld 

Into  one  land  all  nations  of  the  world, 

Kewedding  those  the  Deluge  once  divorced. 

Oh !  may  all  help  each  other  in  good  tilings, 

Mentally,  morally,  and  bodily ! 

Vouchsafe,  kind  God !     Thy  blessing  to  this  isle, 

Specially !     May  our  country  ever  lead 

The  world,  for  she  is  worthiest ;  and  may  all 

Profit  by  her  example,  and  adopt 

Her  course,  wherever  great,  or  free,  or  just. 

May  all  her  subject  colonies  and  powers 

Have  of  her  freedom  freely,  as  a  child 

Beceiveth  of  its  parents.     Let  not  rights 

Be  wrested  from  us  to  our  own  reproach, 

But  granted.     We  may  make  the  whole  world  free, 

And  be  as  free  ourselves  as  ever,  more ! 

If  policy  or  self-defence  call  forth 

Our  forces  to  the  field,  let  us  in  Thee 

Place,  first,  our  trust,  and  in  Thy  name  we  shall 

O'ercome,  for  we  will  only  wage  the  right. 

Let  us  not  conquer  nations  for  ourselves, 

But  for  Thee,  Lord !  who  hast  predestined  us 


FESTUS.  93 

To  fight  the  battles  of  the  future  now, 

And  so  have  done  with  war  before  Thou  comest. 

Till  then,  Lord  God  of  armies,  let  our  foes 

Have  their  swords  broken  and  their  cannon  burst, 

And  their  strong  cities  levelled ;  and  while  we 

War  faithfully  and  righteously,  improve, 

Civilize,  christianize  the  lands  we  win 

From  savage  or  from  nature,  Thou,  oh  God ! 

Wilt  aid  and  hallow  conquest,  as  of  old, 

Thine  own  immediate  nation's.     But  we  pray 

That  all  mankind  may  make  one  brotherhood, 

And  love  and  serve  each  other ;  that  all  wars 

And  feuds  die  out  of  nations,  whether  those 

Whom  the  sun's  hot  light  darkens,  or  ourselves 

Whom  he  treats  fairly,  or  the  northern  tribes 

Whom  ceaseless  snows  and  starry  winters  blench, 

Savage  or  civilized,  —  let  every  race, 

Red,  black  or  white,  olive,  or  tawny-skinned, 

Settle  in  peace  and  swell  the  gathering  hosts 

Of  the   great   Prince   of  Peace !     Oh !    may   the 

hour 
Soon  come  when  all  false  gods,  false  creeds,  false 

prophets,  — 
Allowed  in  Thy  good  purpose  for  a  time,  — 
Demolished,  the  great  world  shall  be  at  last, 
The  mercy-seat  of  God,  the  heritage 
Of  Christ,  and  the  possession  of  the  Spirit, 
The  comforter,  the  wisdom !  shall  all  be 
One  land,  one  home,  one  friend,  one  faith,  one  law, 
Its  ruler  God,  its  practice  righteousness, 
Its  life  peace !     For  the  one  true  faith  we  pray  ; 
There  is  but  one  in  Heaven  and  there  shall  be 
But  one  on  earth,  the  same  which  is  in  Heaven. 
Prophecy  is  more  true  than  history. 
Grant  us  our  prayers,  we  pray,  Lord !  in  the  name 
And  for  the  sake  of  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ, 
Our  Saviour  and  Redeemer,  who  with  Thee, 
And  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  reigneth  God 
Over  all  worlds,  one  blessed  Trinity ! 


94  FESTUS. 

The  Crowd.     Amen! 

Lucifer.   Well,  friends,  we  '11  sing  a  hymn ;  then 
part. 
I  give  it  out,  and  you  sing  —  all  of  you. 

Oh !  Earth  is  cheating  Earth 

From  age  to  age  for  ever ; 
She  laughs  at  faith  and  worth, 

And  dreams  she  shall  die  never ; 
Never,  never,  never ! 
And  dreams  she  shall  die  never. 

And  Hell  is  cursing  Hell 

From  age  to  age  for  ever ; 
Its  groans  ring  out  the  knell 

Of  souls  that  may  die  never; 
Never,  never,  never ! 
Of  souls  that  may  die  never. 

But  Heaven  is  blessing  Heaven 

From  age  to  age  for  ever ; 
And  its  thanks  to  God  are  given 

For  bliss  that  can  die  never ; 
Never,  never,  never ! 
For  bliss  that  can  die  never. 

My  blessing  be  upon  ye  all ;  now  go ! 

Festus.     I  wonder  what  these  people  make  of 
thee. 

Lucifer.     Ay  manner's  a  great  matter. 

Festus.  They  deserve 

All  the  rebuke  thou  gavest  them  and  more. 
What  mountains  of  delusion  men  have  reared ! 
How  every  age  hath  bustled  on  to  build 
Its  shadowy  mole  —  its  monumental  dream! 
How  faith  and  fancy,  in  the  mind  of  man, 
Have  spuriously  mingled,  and  how  much 
Shall  pass  away  for  aye,  as  pass  before 
Yon  sun,  the  Lord  of  steadfastness  and  change, 


FESTUS.  95 

The  visionary  landscapes  of  the  skies ;  — 

The  golden  capes  far  stretching  into  Heaven, 

The  snow-piled  cloud-crags,  the  bright  winged  isles 

Which  dot  the  deep,  impassive,  ocean  air 

Like  a  disbanded  rainbow,  of  all  hues, 

Fit  for  translated  fairy's  Paradise ;  — 

Or  as  before  the  eye  of  musing  child, 

The  faces  Fancy  forms  in  clouds  and  fire 

Of  glowing  angel  or  of  darkening  fiend. 

Arts,  superstition,  arms,  philosophy, 

Have  each  in  turn  possessed,  betrayed,  and  mocked 

us. 
Yes,  vain  philosophy,  thine  hour  is  come  ! 
Thy  lips  were  lined  with  the  immortal  lie, 
And  dyed  with  all  the  look  of  truth.     Men  saw, 
Believed,  embraced,  detested,  cast  thee  off. 
Those  lights,  the  morn  of  Truth's  immortal  day, 
As  thou  didst  falsely  swear  them,  have  they  not 
Vanished,  the  mere  auroras  of  the  mind  ? 
And  thou  didst  vow  to  gather  clear  again 
The  fallen  waters  of  humanity ; 
To  smoothe  the  flaw  from  out  an  eye ;  to  piece 
A  pounded  pearl.     Thank  God !     I  am  a  man ; 
Not  a  philosopher !     Rivers  may  rot, 
Never  revive  the  root  of  oak  firebolted. 
Come,  let  us  to  the  hills !  where  none  but  God 
Can  overlook  us ;  for  I  hate  to  breathe 
The  breaths  and  think  the  thoughts  of  other  men, 
In  close  and  clouded  cities,  where  the  sky 
Frowns  like  an  angry  Father  mournfully. 
I  love  the  hills  and  I  love  loneliness. 
And  oh  !  I  love  the  woods,  those  natural  fanes 
Whose  very  air  is  holy ;  and  we  breathe 
Of  God ;  for  He  doth  come  in  special  place, 
And,  while  we  worship,  He  is  there  for  us ! 

Lucifer.    It  is  time  that  something  should  be 

done  for  the  poor. 
The  sole  equality  on  earth  is  death ; 
Now,  rich  and  poor  are  both  dissatisfied. 


96  FESTUS. 

I  am  for  judgment :  that  will  settle  both. 
Nothing  is  to  be  done  without  destruction. 
Death  is  the  universal  salt  of  states ; 
Blood  is  the  base  of  all  things  —  law  and  war, 
I  could  tame  this  lion  age  to  follow  me. 
I  should  like  to  macadamize  the  world ; 
The  road  to  Hell  wants  mending. 
Festus.  Come  away ! 


Scene  —  The  Surface. 
Lucifer  and  Festus. 

Lucifer.    Wilt  ride  ? 

Festus.  I  '11  have  an  hour's  ride. 

Lucifer.    Be  mine  the  steeds !  be  me  the  guide ! 
Come  hither,  come  hither, 
My  brave  black  steed  ! 
And  thou,  too,  his  fellow, 
Hither  with  speed ! 
Though  not  so  fleet 
As  the  steeds  of  Death, 
Your  feet  are  as  sure, 
Ye  have  longer  breath. 
Ye  have  drawn  the  world 
Without  wind  or  bait, 
Six  thousand  years, 
And  it  waxeth  late 
So  take  me  this  once, 
And  again  to  my  home, 
And  rest  ye  and  feast  ye. 
They  come,  they  come. 

Festus.     Tossing  their  manes  like 
Pitchy  surge ;  and  lashing 
Their  tails  into  a 
Tempest ;  their  eyes  flashing, 
Like  shooting  thunderbolts. 

Lucifer.     Come,  know  your  masters,  colts  1 
Up,  and  away ! 


FESTUS.  97 

Festus.        Hurrah  !  hurrah ! 
The  noblest  pace  the  world  e'er  saw. 
I  swear  by  Heaven  we  '11  beat  the  sun, 
In  the  longest  heat  that  ever  was  run ; 
If  we  keep  it  up  as  we  have  begun. 

Lucifer.    I  told  thee  my  steeds 
Were  a  gallant  pair. 

Festus.     And  they  were  not  thine, 
They  might  be  divine. 

Lucifer.     Thine  is  named  Ruin ; 
And  Darkness  mine. 

Festus.    Like  all  of  thy  deeds. 
Now  that's  unfair. 

Lucifer.     A  civiller  and  gentler  beast 
Thou  hast  never  crossed  at  least. 
Now,  look  around ! 

Festus.  Why,  this  is  France. 

Nature  is  here  like  a  living  romance. 
Look  at  its  vines  and  streams  and  skies, 
Its  glancing  feet  and  dancing  eyes  ! 

Lucifer.    'Tis  a  strange  nation,  light  yet  strong, 
Fierce  of  heart  and  blithe  of  tongue ; 
Prone  to  change  ;   so  fond  of  blood 
She  wounds  herself  to  quaff  her  own. 

Festus.     Oh  !  it's  a  brave  and  lovely  land ; 
And  well  deserving  every  good 
Which  others  wish  themselves  alone, 
Could  she  but  herself  command. 

Lucifer.     On  !  on  !  no  more  delay  ! 
Or  we'll  not  ride  round 
The  world  all  day. 

Festus.     Good  horse,  get  off  the  ground ! 

Lucifer.     Sit  firm ;  and  if  our  horses  please, 
We  will  take  at  once  the  Pyrenees. 
'T  was  bravely  leapt ! 

Festus.    Ay,  this  is  Spain : 
Europe's  last  land 
*T  will  e'er  remain ; 

7 


08  FESTUS. 

Last  in  the  progress  of  the  earth ; 
The  last  in  liberty  ; 
The  last  in  wealth  and  worth ; 
The  last  in  bigotry. 

Lucifer.     Turn  thy  steed,  and  slacken  rein ; 
Quick !  we  must  be  back  again  : 
O'er  the  vale  hid  in  the  mountain, 
O'er  the  merry  forest  fountain  ; 
Ruin  and  Darkness  !  we  must  fly 
O'er  crag  and  lift, 
Swift  —  swift  —  swift 
As  the  glance  of  an  eye. 

Festus.     That  is  Italy  —  the  grave 
And  resurrection  of  the  slave. 

Lucifer.     And  there  lies  Greece,  whose  soul 
Men  say  hath  fled. 

Festus.    Perhaps  some  God  may  come, 
And  raise  the  dead. 

Lucifer.     Norward  now  we  '11  hold  our  course. 
Thine  I  think  is  the  bolder  horse  ; 
But  bear  him  up  with  a  harder  hand ! 
Rough  riding  this  o'er  Swisserland. 

Festus.     So  all  have  found  it  who  have  tried ; 
High  as  their  Alps  the  people's  pride, 
Never  to  have  bowed  before 
The  tyrant  or  the  conqueror. 

Lucifer.     Away,  away !  before  thee  lie 
The  fields  and  floods  of  Germany. 

Festus.     Well  I  love  thee,  Father-land ! 
Sire  of  Europe,  as  thou  art ! 
Be  free  !  and  crouch  no  more,  but  stand ! 
Thy  noblest  son  will  take  thy  part. 
Oh !  sooner  let  the  mountains  bend 
Beneath  the  clouds,  when  tempests  lour, 
Than  nations  stoop  their  sky  compeering  heads 
In  homage  to  some  petty  despot's  power  ! 
The  worm  which  suffers  mincing  into  parts, 
May  sprout  forth  heads  and  tails,  but  grows  no 
hearts. 


FESTUS.  99 

Lucifer.     There  lies  Austria  !     Famous  land 
For  fiddlesticks  and  sword-in-hand. 

Festus.     And  Poland,  whom  truly  unhappy  we 
call. 
Unworthy  to  rise  —  unwilling  to  fall. 
Forge  into  swords  thy  feudal  chain ! 
Smite  e'en  the  souls  of  foes  in  twain  ! 
The  fetters  have  been  bound  in  vain 
Round  England's  arms :  and  we  are  free 
As  the  souls  of  our  sires  in  Heaven  which  be. 
That  earth  should  have  so  few 
Men,  Fathers,  like  to  you ! 

Lucifer.     What  matter  who  be  free  or  slaves  ; 
For  all  there  is  one  tyranny,  the  grave's ; 
Or  freedom,  may  be.     On !  on  !  haste ! 

Festus.      What  land  is    yonder  wide,   white 
waste  ? 

Lucifer.     Ha !  't  is  Russia's  gentle  realm  : 
Whose  sceptre  is  the  sword  —  whose  crown,  the 
helm. 

Festus.     I  swear  by  every  atom  which  exists, 
I  better  love  this  reckless  ride 
O'er  hill  and  forest,  lake  and  river  wide ; 
O'er  sunlit  plain  and  through  the  mountain  mists, 
Than  aught  which  thou  hast  given  beside. 

Lucifer.     See  what  a  long,  long  track 
Of  dust  and  fire  behind, 
For  miles  and  miles  aback ! 
And  shrill  and  strong, 
As  we  shoot  along, 
Whistles  and  whirrs, 
Like  a  forest  of  firs 
Falling,  the  cold  north  wind. 

Festus.     Look  !  my  way  I  can  only  read 
By  the  sparks  from  the  hoof  of  my  giant  steed 

Lucifer.     Where  art  thou  now  I 

Festus.  In  Tartar  land ; 

I  know  by  the  deserts  of  salt  and  sand. 


100  FESTUS. 

Nor  aim  nor  end  hath  a  wandering  life ; 

Rest  reaps  but  rest,  and  strife  but  strife. 

With  the  nations  round 

They  ne'er  have  mixed ; 

For  good  or  ill 

They  stand  all  still ; 

Their  bodies  but  rove, 

Their  minds  are  fixed. 

And  yonder  lies  old  China's  wall, 

Where  gods  of  gold  do  men  enthrall ; 

Gods  whose  gold 's  their  only  worth. 

Lucifer.      Well,    is    not    gold    the    god    of 
.    earth  ? 
Now  southward,  hey !  for  Hindostan  ! 
The  sun  beats  down  both  beast  and  man. 
Insect  and  herb  for  life  do  gasp ; 
The  river  reeks  and  faints  the  asp. 

Festus.     But  blithe  are  we, 
And  our  steeds,  I  trow ; 
And  the  mane  of  mine 
Yet  bears  the  snow 
Which  fell  on  us 
By  Caucasus. 
By  the  four  beasts !  but  this  is  warm. 

Lucifer.     Away  !  away  ! 
Nor  stint  nor  stay ; 
We  '11  reach  the  sea  before  yon  storm. 

Festus.    Wilt  take  the  sea  ? 

Lucifer.     Ay,  that  will  we  1 
And  swim  as  we  ride, 
Our  steeds  astride ; 
Come  leap,  leap  off  with  me  ! 

Festus.    What  ?  shall  we  leap 
Sheer  off  this  steep, 
A  mile  the  sea  above  ? 

Lucifer.    Leap  as  to  save 
From  worse  than  a  grave 
The  maid  thou  most  dost  love ! 


FESTUS.  101 

Festus.    There  is  a  rapture  in  the  headlong 
leap, 
The  wedgelike  cleaving  of  the  closing  deep  ! 
A  feeling  full  of  hardihood  and  power 
With  which  we  court  the  waters  that  devour. 
Oh  !  't  is  a  feeling  great,  sublime,  supreme, 
Like  the  ecstatic  influence  of  a  dream, 
To  speed  one's  way  thus  o'er  the  sliding  plain  ; 
And  make  a  kindred  being.with  the  main. 

Lucifer.    By  Chaos  !  this  is  gallant  sport ; 
A  league  at  every  breath ; 
Me  thinks  if  I  ever  have  to  die, 
I  '11  ride  this  rate  to  death. 

Festus.     Away,  away  upon  the  whitening  tide, 
Like  lover  hastening  to  embrace  his  bride, 
We  hurry  faster  than  the  foam  we  ride. 
Dashing  aside  the  waves  which  round  us  cling, 
With  strength  like  that  which  lifts  an  eagle's  wing 
Where  the  stars  dazzle  and  the  angels  sing. 

Lucifer.     We  scatter  the  spray, 
And  break  through  the  billows, 
As  the  wind  makes  way 
Through  the  leaves  of  willows ! 

Festus.    In  vain  they  urge  their  armies  to  the 
fight : 
Their  surge-crests  crumble  'neath  our  stroke   of 

might. 
We  meet  and  fear  not ;   mount  —  now  rise,  now 

fall  — 
And  dare,  with  full-nerved  arm,  the  rage  of  all. 
Through  anger-swollen  wave  or  sparkling  spray, 
Nothing  it  recks ;  we  hold  our  perilous  way 
Right  onward !  till  we  feel  the  whirling  brain 
Ring  with  the  maddening  music  of  the  main ; 
Till  the  fixed  eyeball  strives  and  strains  to  ken, 
Yet  loathes  to  see  the  shore  and  haunts  of  men ; 
And  the  blood,  half  starting  through  each  ridgy 

vein, 
In  the  unwieldly  hand  sets  black  with  pain. 


102  FESTUS. 

Then  let  the  tempest  cloud  on  cloud  come  spread, 
And  tear  the  stormy  terrors  of  his  head ; 
Let  the  wild  sea-bird  wheel  around  my  brow, 
And  shriek  —  and  swoop  —  and  flap  her  wing  as 

now  ! 
It  gladdens !  on !  ye  boisterous  billows,  roll ! 
And  keep  my  body  ;  ye  have  ta'en  my  soul. 
Thou  element !  the  type  which  God  hath  given, 
For  eyes  and  hearts  too  earthy,  of  His  Heaven ! 
Were  Heaven  a  mockery,  I  would  never  mourn 
While  o'er  thy  bosom  I  might  still  be  borne  ; 
While  yet  to  me  the  power  and  joy  was  given 
To  fling  my  breast  on  thine,  and  mingle  earth  with 
Heaven. 

Lucifer.     See  yonder !  now  we  quit  the  main  ; 
For  here  's  the  Cape,  here  's  land  again,  — 
And  scour  we  must  o'er  Afric's  plain. 

Festus.     Away !  away !  on  either  hand 
Nor  town  nor  tower, 
Nor  shade  nor  shower  — 
Nothing  but  sun  and  sand. 

Lucifer.     See,  there  they  are !     I  knew,  right 
soon, 
We  would  light  on  the  mountains  of  the  moon. 
Over  them !  over,  nought  forbids ! 

Festus.     Yonder  the  Nile  and  the  Pyramids  ? 
Hurrah  !  by  my  soul ! 
At  every  bound 
I  see,  I  feel 
The  earth  rush  round. 
I  see  the  mountains  slide  away  — 
That  side  night  and  this  side  day. 

Lucifer.     Shall  we  go  to  America  ? 

Festus.    Why,  have  we  time  ? 

Lucifer.  Oh,  plenty, 

Be  there,  too,  ere  we  reckon  twenty. 
Another  run,  another  bound ! 
And  we  shall  leave  this  lion  ground. 

Festus.    The  sea  again !  the  swift  bright  sea 


FESTUS.  103 

Lucifer.     Hold  hard,  and  follow  me ! 
Well,  now  we  have  travelled  upon  the  waves, 
Wilt  travel  a  time  beneath  ? 
And  visit  the  sea-born  in  their  caves ; 
And  look  on  the  rainbow-tinted  wreath 
Of  weeds,  beset  with  pearls,  wherewith 
The  mermaid  binds  her  long  green  hair, 
Or  rouse  the  sea-snake  from  his  lair  ? 

Festus.     Ay,  ay  !  down  let  us  dive  ! 

Lucifer.     Look  up  !  we  lack  not  stars ; 
And  every  star  thou  seest  's  alive : 
A  little  globe  of  life  —  light —  love, 
Whose  every  atom  is  a  living  being ; 
Each  the  other's  bosom  seeing, 
Each  enlightening  the  other. 

Festus.     Oh  !  how  unlike  the  world  above, 
Where  each  doth  mainly,  vainly  strive 
To  dim  or  to  outshine  his  brother ! 

Lucifer.     Come  on !  come  on ! 

Festus.  Are  those  bright  spars, 

Or  eyes  of  things  which  ne'er  forgive, 
That  seem  to  play  on  us,  and  glare 
With  rage  that  we  so  far  should  dare 
To  search  the  hidden  deeps, 
Where  tide,  the  moonslave,  sleeps  ? 
Where  the  wind  breathes  not,  and  the  wave 
Walks  softly  as  above  a  grave ;  — 
Where  coral  worms,  in  countless  nations, 
Build  rocks  up  from  the  sea's  foundations ;  — 
Where  the  islands  strike  their  roots 
Far  from  the  old  mainland ; 
And  spring  like  desert-fruits, 
Shook  off  by  God's  strong  hand, 
Up  from  their  bed  of  sand. 
Look,  listen !  there  is  music  in  the  cave, 
Where  ocean  sleeps,  and  brightness  in  the  wave 
The  sea-bird  makes  its  pillow,  and  the  star, 
Last  born  of  Heaven,  its  azure  mirror  ;  —  far 
And  wide,  the  pale,  fine,  fire  of  ocean  flows, 


104  FESTUS. 

Softly  sublime  like  lightnings  in  repose  — 

Till  roused,  anon,  afar  its  flaming  spray  it  throws. 

Lucifer.     There !  now  we  stand 
On  the  world's-end-land ! 
Over  the  hills  ' 
Away  we  go ! 
Through  fire,  and  snow, 
And  rivers,  whereto 
All  others  are  rills. 

Fes t us.     Through  the  lands  of  silver, 
The  lands  of  gold ; 
Through  lands  untrodden, 
And  lands  untold. 

Lucifer.     By  strait  and  bay 
We  must  away  ; 
Through  swamp,  and  plain, 
And  hurricane ; 

Festus.     And  that  dark  cloud  of  slaves 
Which  yet  may  rise ;  — 
Though  nought  shall  blot  the  bannered  stars 
From  Freedom's  skies. 
America !  half-brother  of  the  world  ! 
With  something  good  and  bad  of  every  land ; 
Greater  than  thee  have  lost  their  seat  — 
Greater  scarce  none  can  stand. 
Thy  flag  now  flouts  the  sides, 
The  highest  under  Heaven  ; 
Save  the  red  cross,  whereto  are  given 
All  victories. 

Lucifer.     Our  horses  snort  and  snuff  the  sea, 
And  pant  for  where  we  ought  to  be. 

Festus.     Well,  here  we  are  !  and  as  we  flew  in, 
I  said,  let  Darkness  follow  Ruin  ! 

Lucifer.     'T  was  right.  Spur  on  !  Come,  Dark- 
ness, come ! 
Think  of  thy  well-strown  stall ! 

Festus.     For  me,  I  care  not  what 's  to  come, 
Nor  for  the  fate  by  which  I  fall ; 
But  I  would  that  I  were  Ocean's  son, 


FESTUS.  105 

The  solitary  brave, 

Like  yon  sea-snake,  to  climb  upon 

The  crest  of  the  bounding  wave. 

Oh  !  happy,  if  at  last  I  lie 

Within  some  pearled  and  coral  cave ; 

While  over  head  the  booming  surge 

And  moaning  billow  shall  chaunt  my  dirge  ; 

And  the  storm-blast,  as  it  sweepeth  by, 

Shall,  answering,  howl  to  the  mermaid's  sigh, 

And  the  night-wind's  mournful  minstrelsy, 

Their  requiem  over  my  grave. 

Lucifer.     Through  morn  and  midnight,  sunset 
and  high  noon, 
One  hour  hath  ta'en  us ;  —  o'er  all  land  and  sea, 
O'er  opening  earthquake  and  iceberg,  have  we 
Swept  in  swift  safety.     'T  will  be  over,  soon. 
Behold  the  common,  narrow  sea, 
Which,  like  a  strong  man's  arm, 
Keeps  back  two  foes  whose  lips  are  white, 
Whose  hearts  with  rage  are  warm. 

Festus.   England  !  my  country,  great  and  free ! 
Heart  of  the  world,  I  leap  to  thee  ! 
How  shall  my  country  fight 
When  her  foes  rise  against  her, 
But  with  thine  arm,  O  Sea  ! 
The  arm  which  thou  lent'st  her  ? 
Where  shall  my  country  be  buried 
When  she  shall  die  ? 
Earth  is  too  scant  for  her  grave  : 
Where  shall  she  lie  ? 
She  hath  brethren  more  than  a  hundred, 
And  they  all  want  room  ; 
They  may  die  and  may  lie  where  they  live  — 
They  shall  not  mix  with  her  doom. 
Where  but  within  thine  arms, 
O  sea,  O  sea  ? 

Wherein  she  hath  lived  and  gloried, 
Let  her  rest  be  ! 
We  will  rise  and  will  say  to  the  sea, 


10G  FESTUS. 

Flow  over  her ! 

We  will  cry  to  the  depths  of  the  deep, 

Cover  her ! 

The  world  hath  drawn  his  sword, 

And  his  red  shield  drips  before  him  :  — 

But,  my  country,  rise  ! 

Thou  canst  never  die 

While  a  foe  hath  life  to  fly ; 

Rise  land,  and  gore  him  ! 

Lucifer.    Now  get  on  land,  and  hie  along 
O'er  forest,  copse,  and  glade  ; 
We  have  but  a  league  or  two  more  to  go 
Before  our  journey  's  made  ; 
With  speed  that  flings  the  sun  into  the  shade  ! 

Festus.     See  the  gold  sunshine  patching, 
And  streaming  and  streaking  across 
The  gray-green  oaks  ;  and  catching, 
By  its  soft  brown  beard,  the  moss. 

Lucifer.     Ah  !  here  we  get  an  open  plain  : 
Here  we  '11  get  down. 
Away,  good  steeds  !  be  off  again  ! 

Festus.    We  must  be  near  to  Town. 
I  am  bound  to  thee  for  ever 
By  the  pleasure  of  this  day  ; 
Henceforth  we  will  never  sever, 
Come  what  come  may. 


Scene  —  A  Village  Feast.    Evening. 
Festus,  Lucifer,  and  Others. 

Festus.     It  is  getting  dark.     One  has  to  walk 
quite  close, 
To  see  the  pretty  faces  that  we  meet. 

Lucifer.     A  disagreeable  necessity, 
Truly. 
Festus.    We'll  rest  upon  this  bridge.    I  am 
tired. 
Yon  tall  slim  tree !  does  it  not  seem  as  made 


FESTUS.  107 

For  its  place  there,  a  kind  of  natural  maypole  ?  — 
Beyond,  the  lighted  stalls  stored  with  the  good 
Things  of  our  childhood's  world,  and  behind  them, 
The  shouting  showman  and  the  clashing  cymbal ; 
The  open-doored  cottages  and  blazing  hearth,  — 
The  little  ones  running  up  with  naked  feet, 
And  cake  in  either  hand,  to  their  mother's  lap,  — ; 
Old   and   young  laughing,   schoolboys   with  their 

playthings, 
Clowns  cracking  jokes,  and  lasses  with  sly  eyes, 
And  the  smile  settling  in  their  sunflecked  cheeks, 
Like  noon  upon  the  mellow  apricot ;  — 
Make  up  a  scene  I  can  for  once  give  in  to. 
It  must  please  all,  the  social  and  the  selfish. 
Are  they  not  happy  ? 

Lucifer.  Why,  it  matters  not. 

They  seem  so  :  that 's  enough. 

Festus.  But  not  the  same. 

Lucifer.     Yet  truth  and  falsehood    meet  in 
seeming,  like 
The  falling  leaf  and  shadow  on  the  pool's  face. 
And  these  are  joys,  like  beauty,  but  skin  deep. 

Festus.    Remove  all  such  and  what 's  the  joy 
of  earth  ? 
'T  is  they  create  the  appetite  of  life  — 
Give  zest  and  relish  to  the  lot  of  millions. 
And  take  the  taste  for  them  away —  what's  left? 
A  dry  ungainly  skeleton  of  soul. 

Lucifer.     Power  is  aye  above  the  soul  and  joy 
Below  it.     Pleasure  men  prefer  to  power. 
(  Children  at  play.)  \ 

Festus.    Play  away,  good  ones ! 

An  old  Man.  Pity  the  poor  blind  man  ! 

Festus.     Here  is  substantial  pity. 

Old  Man.  Heaven  reward  you  ! 

Festus.     Blind  as  the  blue  skies  after  sunset. 
Blind ! 
And  I  am  tired  of  looking  on  what  is. 
One  might  as  well  see  beauty  never  more, 


108  FESTUS. 

As  look  upon  it  with  an  empty  eye. 

I  would  this  world  were  over.     I  am  tired. 

Nought  happens  but  what  happens  to  one's  self; 

And  all  hath  happened  I  have  wished,  and  more. 

Our  pleasures  all  pass  from  us,  one  by  one, 

With  that  relief  which  sighing  gives  the  heart, 

Though  each  sigh  leaves  it  lower.     It  is  sad 

To  think  how  few  our  pleasures  really  are  : 

And  for  the  which  we  risk  eternal  good. 

There 's  nothing  that  can  satisfy  one's  self, 

Except  one's  self.     Well,  it  is  very  sad, 

And  by  the  time  we  come  of  age  we  have  felt, 

In  one  degree  or  other,  all  that  age 

Can  offer.     We  have  reaped  our  field  ere  noon. 

The  rest  is  reproduction  ;  sowing  —  reaping  — 

Losing  again.     Toil  and  gain  tire  alike. 

We  cannot  live  too  slowly  to  be  good 

And  happy,  nor  too  much  by  line  and  square. 

But  youth  is  burning  to  forestall  its  nature, 

And  will  not  wait  for  time  to  ferry  it 

Over  the  stream,  but  flings  itself  into 

The  flood,  and  perishes.     And  yet,  why  not  ? 

There  is  no  charm  in  time  as  time,  nor  good. 

The  long  days  are  no  happier  than  the  short  ones. ' 

'T  is  some  time  now  since  I  was  here.     We  leave 

Our  home  in  youth  —  no  matter  to  what  end  ;  — 

Study  —  or  strife  —  or  pleasure,  or  what  not: 

And  coming  back  in  few  short  years,  we  find 

All  as  we  left  it,  outside  ;  the  old  elms, 

The  house,  grass,  gates,  and  latchet's  selfsame  click : 

But  lift  that  latchet,  —  all  is  changed  as  doom  : 

The  servants  have  forgotten  our  step,  and  more 

Than  half  of  those  who  knew  us  know  us  not. 

Adversity,  prosperity,  the  grave, 

Play  a  round  game  with  friends.     On  some   the 

world 
Hath  shot  its  evil  eye,  and  they  are  passed 
From  honor  and  remembrance,  and  a  stare 
Is  all  the  mention  of  their  names  receives ; 


FESTUS.  109 

And  people  know  no  more  of  them  than  of 
The  shapes  of  clouds  at  midnight,  a  year  back. 

Lucifer.    Let  us  move  on  to  where  the  dancing 
is; 
We  soon  shall  see  how  happy  they  all  are. 
Here  is  a  loving  couple  quarrelling. 
And  there,  another.    It  is  quite  distressing. 
See  yonder.     Two  men  fighting ! 

Festus.  What  avail 

These  vile  exceptions  to  the  rule  of  joy  ? 

Lucifer.     Behold  the  happiness  of  which  thou 
spakest ! 
The  highest  hills  are  miles  below  the  sky, 
And  so  far  is  the  lightest  heart  below 
True  happiness. 

Festus.  This  is  a  snakelike  world, 

And  always  hath  its  tail  within  its  mouth, 
As  if  it  ate  itself,  and  moralled  time. 
The  world  is  like  yon  children's  merry-go-round ; 
What  men  admire  are  carriages  and  hobbies, 
Which  the  exalted  manikins  enjoy. 
There  is  a  noisy  ragged  crowd  below 
Of  urchins  drives  it  round,  who  only  get        [haps : 
The  excitement  for  their  pains  —  best  gain  per- 
For  it  is  not  they  who  labor  that  grow  dizzy 
Nor  sick  —  that's  for  the  idle,  proud  above, 
Who  soon  dismount,  more  weary*  of  enjoying 
Than  those  below  of  working  ;  and  but  fair. 
It  is  wretchedness  or  recklessness  alone 
Keeps  us  alive.     Were  we  happy  we  should  die. 
Yet  what  is  death  ?     I  like  to  think  on  death : 
It  is  but  the  appearance  of  an  apparition. 
One  ought  to  tremble;  but  oughts  stand  for  nothing. 
I  hate  the  thought  of  wrinkling  up  to  rest ; 
The  toothlike  aching  ruin  of  the  body, 
With  the  heart  all  out,  and  nothing  left  but  edge. 
Give  me  the  long  high  bounding  feel  of  life, 
Which  cries,  let  me  but  leap  unto  my  grave, 
And  111  not  mind  the  when  nor  where.    We  never 


110  FESTUS. 

Care  less  for  life  than  when  enjoying  it. 

Oh!  I  should  love  to  die.     What  is  to  die  ? 

J  cannot  hold  the  meaning  more  than  can 

An  oak's  arms  clasp  the  blast  that  blows  on  it. 

I  am  made  up  to  die  ;  for  having  been 

Every  thing,  there  is  nothing  left  but  nothing 

To  be  again. 

Lucifer.     Hark  !  here  is  a  ballad-singer.^ 
Ballad-singer.     All  of  my  own  composing  ! 
Festus.  Yes,  Yes —  we  know. 

Singer.    My  gipsy  maid  !  my  gipsy  maid ! 
I  bless  and  curse  the  day 
I  lost  the  light  of  life,  and  caught 
The  grief  which  maketh  gray. 
Would  that  the  light  which  blinded  me 
Had  saved  me  on  my  way ! 

My  night-haired  love !  so  sweet  she  was, 
So  fair  and  blithe  was  she ; 
Her  smile  was  brighter  than  the  moon's, 
Her  eyes  the  stars  might  see. 

I  met  her  by  her  lane-spread  tent, 

Beside  a  moss-green  stone, 

And  bade  her  make,  not  mock,  my  fate, 

My  fortune  was  he*r  own. 

Thou  art  but  yet  a  boy,  she  said, 

And  I  a  woman  grown. 

I  am  a  man  in  love,  I  cried ; 

My  heart  was  early  manned ; 

She  smiled,  and  only  drooped  her  eyes, 

And  then  let  go  my  hand. 

We  stood  a  minute :  neither  spake 

What  each  must  understand. 

I  told  her,  so  she  would  be  mine 
And  follow  where  I  went, 


Ill 


She  straight  should  have  a  bridal  bower 
Instead  of  gipsy  tent. 

Or  would  she  have  me  wend  with  her, 
The  world  between  should  fall ; 
For  her  I  would  fling  up  faith  and  friends, 
And  name,  and  fame,  and  all. 

Her  smile  so  bright  froze  while  I  spake, 
And  ice  was  in  her  eye ; 
So  near,  it  seemed  ere  touch  her  heart 
I  might  have  kissed  the  sky. 

I  said  that  if  she  loved  to  rule, 

Or  if  she  longed  to  reign, 

I  would  make  her  Queen  of  every  race 

Which  tearlike  trode  the  world's  sad  face, 

Or  bleed  at  every  vein. 

She  laid  her  finger  on  her  lip, 
And  pointed  to  the  sky  ; 
There  is  no  God  to  come,  she  said  : 
Dost  thou  not  fear  to  die  ? 

And  what  is  God,  I  said,  to  thee  ? 
Thy  people  worship  not. 
The  good,  the  happy,  and  the  free, 
She  said,  they  need  no  God. 

I  looked  until  I  lost  mine  eyes ; 

I  felt  as  though  I  were 

In  a  dark  cave,  with  one  weak  light  — 

The  light  of  life  —  with  her ; 

And  that  was  wasting  fast  away ; 

I  watched  but  would  not  stir. 

Again  she  took  my  hand  in  hers, 
And  read  it  o'er  and  o'er ; 
Ah  !  eyes  so  young,  so  sweet,  I  said, 
Make  as  they  read  love's  lore. 


112  FESTUS. 

She  held  my  hand  —  I  trembled  whilst  — 
For  sorely  soon  I  felt 
She  made  the  love-cross  she  foretold, 
And  all  the  woe  she  dealt. 

Unhappy  I  should  be,  she  said, 
And  young  to  death  be  given ; 
I  told  her  I  believed  in  her, 
Not  in  the  stars  of  Heaven. 

Hush  !  we  breathe  Heaven,  she  said,  and  bowed ; 
And  the  stars  speak  through  me. 
Let  Heaven,  I  cried,  take  care  of  Heaven ! 
I  only  care  for  thee. 

She  shrank :  I  looked,  and  begged  a  kiss : 
I  knew  she  had  one  for  me ; 
She  would  deny  me  none,  she  said, 
But  give  me  none  would  she. 

My  gipsy  maid !  my  gipsy  maid  ! 
'T  is  three  long  years  like  this, 
Since  there  I  gave  and  got  from  thee 
That  meeting,  parting  kiss. 

I  saw  the  tears  start  in  her  eye, 
And  trickle  down  her  cheek, 
Like  falling  stars  across  the  sky, 
Escaping  from  their  Maker's  eye  : 
I  saw,  but  spared  to  speak. 

Go,  and  forget !  she  said,  and  slid 
Below  her  lowly  tent. 
I  will  not,  cannot —  hear  me,  girl ! 
She  heard  not,  and  I  went. 

At  eve,  by  sunset,  I  was  there, 
The  tent  was  there  no  more ; 


FESTUS.  113 

The  fire  which  warmed  her  flickered  still  — 
The  fire  she  sat  before. 

I  stood  by  it,  till  through  the  dark 
I  saw  not  where  it  lay ; 
And  then  like  that  my  heart  went  out 
In  ashy  grief  and  gray. 

My  gipsy  maid !  my  gipsy  maid ! 
Oh !  let  me  bless  this  day; 
This  day  it  was  I  met  thee  first, 
And  yet  it  shall  be  and  is  cursed, 
For  thou  hast  gone  away. 

Lucifer.  Another,  please — not  quite  so  gloomy, 
friend. 

Girl.  I  wonder  if  the  tale  it  tells  be  true. 

Singer.   I  dare  say  —  but  you  want  a  merrier. 
Every  man's  life  has  its  apocrypha ; 
Mine  has,  at  least.     I  have  said  more  than  need  be. 
It  happened,  too,  when  I  was  very  young. 
We  never  meet  such  gipsies  when  we  are  old ; 
And  yet  we  more  complain  of  youth  than  age. 
Now,  make  a  ring,  good  people.     Let  me  breathe  ! 

[Sings. 
Oh !  the  wee  green  neuk,  the  sly  green  neuk, 

The  wee  sly  neuk  for  me ! 
Whare  the  wheat  is  wavin*  bright  and  brown, 

And  the  wind  is  fresh  and  free. 
Whare  I  weave  wild  weeds,  and  out  o'  reeds 

Kerve  whissles  as  I  lay ; 
And  a  douce  low  voice  is  murmurin'  by 

Through  the  lee-lang  simmer  day. 
Oh  !  the  wee  green  neuk,  etc. 

And  whare  a'  things  luik  as  though  they  lo'ed 

To  languish  in  the  sun ; 
And  that  if  they  feed  the  fire  they  dree, 

They  wadna  ae  pang  were  gone. 
8 


114  FESTUS. 

Whare  the  lift  aboon  is  still  as  death, 

And  bright  as  life  can  be ; 
While  the  douce  low  voice  says,  na,  na,  na! 

But  ye  mauna  luik  sae  at  me. 
Oh !  the  wee  green  neuk,  etc. 

Whare  the  lang  rank  bent  is  saft  and  cule, 

And  freshenin'  till  the  feet ; 
And  the  spot  is  sly,  and  the  spinnie  high, 

Whare  my  luve  and  I  mak  seat : 
And  I  teaze  her  till  she  rins,  and  then 

I  catch  her  roun'  the  tree ; 
While  the  poppies  shak'  their  heids  and  blush  ■ 

Let  'em  blush  till  they  drap,  for  me  ! 
Oh !  the  wee  green  neuk,  etc. 

Festus.    And  all  who  know  such  feelings  and 
such  scenes 
Will,  I  am  sure,  reward  you.     Here  —  take  this. 

Others.   And  this,  and  this  —  too. 

Singer.   Thank  ye  all,  good  friends ! 

Festus.   There 's  much  that  hath  no  merit  but 
its  truth, 
And  no  excuse  but  nature.     Nature  does 
Never  wrong :  't  is  society  which  sins. 
Look  on  the  bee  upon  the  wing  among  flowers ; 
Mow  brave,  how  bright  his  life  I     Then  mark  him 

hived, 
Cramped,  cringing  in  his  self-built,  social  cell. 
Thus  is  it  in  the  world-hive :  most  where  men 
Lie  deep  in  cities  as  in  drifts  —  death  drifts, 
Nosing  each  other  like  a  flock  of  sheep ; 
Not  knowing  and  not  caring  whence  nor  whither 
They  come  or  go,  so  that  they  fool  together. 

Lucifer.  It  is  quite  fair  to  halve  these  lives  and 

.  say 

This  side  is  nature's,  that  society's, 
When  both  are  side-views  only  of  one  thing. 
Farmer.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  come  among  us, 
sir. 


FESTUS.  115 

Parson.   Why,  I  have  but  little  comfort  in  these 
pastimes ; 
And  any  heart,  turned  Godwards,  feels  more  joy 
In  one  short  hour  of  prayer,  than  e'er  was  raised 
By  all  the  feasts  on  earth  since  their  foundation. 
But  no  one  will  believe  us;  as  if  we 
Had  never  known  the  vain  things  of  the  world, 
Nor  lain  and  slept  in  sin's  seducing  shade, 
Listless,  until  God  woke  us ;  made  us  feel 
We  should  be  up  and  stirring  in  the  sun ; 
For  every  thing  had  to  be  done  ere  night. 
What  is  all  this  joy  and  jollity  about  ? 
Grant  there  may  be  no  sin.     What  good  is  it  ? 

Farmer.   I  can't  defend  these   feasts,  sir,  and 
can't  blame. 

Parson.    Good  evening,  friends !   Why,  Festus  ! 
I  rejoice 
We  meet  again.     I  have  a  young  friend  here, 
A  student —  who  hath  staid  with  us  of  late. 
You  would  be  glad,  I  know,  to  know  each  other. 
Therefore  be  known  so. 

Festus.  You  are  a  student,  sir. 

Student.   I  profess  little ;  but  it  is  a  title 
A  man  may  claim  perhaps  with  modesty. 

Festus.  True.   All  mankind  are  students.   How 
to  live 
And  how  to  die  forms  the  great  lesson  still. 
I  know  what  study  is  :  it  is  to  toil 
Hard,  through  the  hours  of  the  sad  midnight  watch, 
At  tasks  which  seem  a  systematic  curse, 
And  course  of  bootless  penance.     Night  by  night, 
To  trace  one's  thought  as  if  on  iron  leaves  ; 
And  sorrowful  as  though  it  were  the  mode 
And  date  of  death  we  wrote  on  our  own  tombs : 
Wring  a  slight  sleep  out  of  the  couch,  and  see 
The  self-same  moon,  which  lit  us  to  our  rest, 
Her  place  scarce  changed  perceptibly  in  Heaven. 
Now  light  us  to  renewal  of  our  toils.  — 
This,  to  the  young  mind,  wild  and  all  in  leaf, 


116  FESTUS. 

Which  knowledge,  grafting,  paineth.     Fruit  soon 

comes, 
And  more  than  all  our  troubles  pays  us  powers ; 
So  that  we  joy  to  have  endured  so  much: 
That  not  for  nothing  have  we  slaved  and  slain 
Ourselves  almost.     And  more ;  it  is  to  strive 
To  bring  the  mind  up  to  one's  own  esteem : 
Who  but  the  generous  fail  ?     It  is  to  think, 
While  thought  is  standing  thick  upon  the  brain 
As  dew  upon  the  brow — for  thought  is  brain-sweat ; 
And  gathering  quick   and   dark,   like    storms  in 

summer, 
Until  convulsed,  condensed,  in  lightning  sport, 
It  plays  upon  the  heavens  of  the  mind,  — 
Opens  the  hemisphered  abysses  here, 
And  we  become  revealers  to  ourselves. 

Student.   When  night  hath  set  her  silver  lamp 
on  high, 
Then  is  the  time  for  study ;  when  Heaven's  light 
Pours  itself  on  the  page,  like  prophecy 
On  time,  unglooming  all  its  mighty  meanings ; 
It  is  then  we  feel  the  sweet  strength  of  the  stars, 
And  magic  of  the  moon. 

Lucifer.  It's  a  bad  habit. 

Student.   And  wisdom  dwells  in  secret  and  on 
high, 
As  do  the  stars.     The  sun's  diurnal  glare 
Is  for  the  daily  herd ;  but  for  the  wise, 
The  cold  pure  radiance  of  the  night-born  light, 
Wherewith  is  inspiration  of  the  truth. 
There  was  a  time  when  I  would  never  go 
To  rest  before  the  sun  rose ;  and  for  that, 
Through  a  like  length  of  time  as  that  now  gone, 
The  world  shall  speak  of  me  six  thousand  years 
hence. 

Lucifer.    How  know  you  that  the  world  wont 
end  to-morrow  ? 

Parson.     I  now,  an  early  riser,  love  to  hail 
The  dreamy  struggles  of  the  stars  with  light, 


FESTUS.  117 

And  the  recovering  breath  of  earth,  sleep-drowned, 

Awakening  to  the  wisdom  of  the  sun, 

And  life  of  light  within  the  tent  of  Heaven  :  — 

To  kiss  the  feet  of  Morning  as  she  walks 

In  dewy  light  along  the  hills,  while  they, 

All  odorous  as  an  angel's  fresh-culled  crown, 

Unveil  to  her  their  bounteous  loveliness. 

Student.    I  am  devote  to  study.   Worthy  books 
Are  not  companions  —  they  are  solitudes  : 
We  lose  ourselves  in  them  and  all  our  cares. 
The  further  back  we  search  the  human  mind,  — 
Mean  in  the  mass,  but  in  the  instance  great  — 
Which  starting  first  with  Deities  and  stars 
And  broods  of  beings  earth-born,  Heaven-begot, 
And  all  the  bright  side  of  the  broad  world,  now 
Doats  upon  dreams  and  dim  atomic  truths, 
Is  all  for  comfort  and  no  more  for  glory  — 
The  nobler  and  more  marvellous  it  shows. 
Trifles  like  these  make  up  the  present  time ; 
The  Iliad  and  the  Pyramids  the  past. 

Festus.   The  future  will  have  glory  not  the  less. 
I  can  conceive  a  time  when  the  world  shall  be 
Much  better  visibly,  and  when,  as  far 
As  social  life  and  its  relations  tend, 
Men,  morals,  manners  shall  be  lifted  up 
To  a  pure  height  we  know  not  of  nor  dream ;  — 
When  all  men's  rights  and  duties  shall  be  clear, 
And  charitably  exercised  and  borne ; 
When  education,  conscience,  and  good  deeds 
Shall  have  just  equal  sway,  and  civil  claims  ;  — 
Great  crimes  shall  be  cast  out,  as  were  of  old 
Devils  possessing  madmen  : — Truth  shall  reign, 
Nature  shall  be  re  throned,  and  man  sublimed. 

Student.     Oh  !  then  may  Heaven  come  down 
again  to  earth ; 
And  dwell  with  her,  as  once,  like  to  a  friend. 

Lucifer.   As  like  each  other  as  a  sword  and 
scythe. 
Oh  !  then  shall  lions  mew  and  lambkins  roar  ! 


118  FESTUS. 

Festus.     And  having  studied  — ■  what  next  ? 

Student.  Much  I  long 

To  view  the  capital  city  of  the  world. 
The  mountains,  the  great  cities,  and  the  sea, 
Are  each  an  era  in  the  life  of  youth. 

Festus.  There  to  get  worldly  ways,  and  thoughts, 
and  schemes ; 
To  learn  to  detect,  distrust,  despise  mankind  — 
To  ken  a  false  factitious  glare  amid  much 
That  shines  with  seeming  saintlike  purity  — 
To  gloss  misdeeds  —  to  trifle  with  great  truths  — 
To  pit  the  brain  against  the  heart,  and  plead 
Wit  before  wisdom,  —  these  are  the  world's  ways : 
It  learns  us  to  lose  that  in  crowds  which  we 
Must  after  seek  alone  —  our  innocence ; 
And  when  the  crowd  is  gone. 

Student.  Not  only  that : 

There  all  great  things  are  round  one.    Interests; 
Mighty  and  mountainous  of  estimate, 
Are  daily  heaped  or  scattered  'neath  the  eye. 
Great  deeds,  great  thoughts,   great  schemes,   and 

crimes,  and  all 
Which  is  in  purpose,  or  in  practice,  great 
Of  human  nature  —  there  are  common  things. 
Men  make  themselves  be  deathless  as  in  spite ; 
As  if  they  waged  some  lineal  feud  with  time ; 
As  though  their  fathers  were  immortal,  too, 
And  immortality  an  every-day 
Accomplishment. 

Festus.    Fie  !  fie !  't  is  more  for  this : 
Amid  gayer  people  and  more  wanton  ways, 
To  give  a  loose  to  all  the  lists  of  youth  — 
To  train  your  passion  flowers  high  ahead, 
And  bind  them  on  your  brow  as  others  do. 
The  mornlit  revel  and  the  shameless  mate  — 
The  tabled  hues  of  darkness  and  of  blood  — 
The  published  bosom  and  the  crowning  smile  — 
The  cup  excessive ;  and  if  aught  there  be 
More  vain  than  these  or  wanton  —  that  to  have  — 


FESTUS.  119 

Have  all  but  always  in  intent,  effect, 
Or  fact.     Nay,  nay,  deny  it  not :  I  know. 
Youth  hath  a  strange  and  strong  desire  to  try 
All  feelings  on  the  heart :  it  is  very  wrong, 
And  dangerous,  and  deadly  :  strive  against  it 
Student.   It  might  be  some  old  sage  was  warn- 
ing us. 
Festus.    Youth  might  be  wise.     We  suffer  less 
from  pains 
Than  pleasures. 

Student.    I  should  like  to  see  the  world. 
And  gain  that  knowledge  which  is  — 

Festus.  Barrener 

Than  ice ;  possessing  and  producing  nought 
But  means  and  forms  of  death  or  vanity. 
The  world  is  just  as  hollow  as  an  eggshell. 
It  is  a  surface,  not  a  solid,  mind  : 
And  all  this  boasted  knowledge  of  the  world 
To  me  seems  but  to  mean  acquaintance  with 
Low  things,  or  evil,  or  indifferent. 

F asm  eh.     Much  more  is  said  of  knowledge  than 
it 's  worth. 
A  man  may  gain  all  knowledge  here,  and  yet 
Be,  after  death,  as  much  in  the  dark  as  I. 

Lucifer.    What  makes  you  know  of   living 

after  death  ? 
Farmer.   Why,  nothing  that  I  know ;  and  there 
it  is,  — 

But  something  I  am  told  has  told  me  so. 
No  angel  ever  came  to  me  to  prove  it ; 
And  all  my  friends  have  died,  and  left  no  ghosts. 
Festus.    All  that  is  good  a  man  may  learn  from 
himself; 
And  much,  too,  that  is  bad. 

Parson.  Nay,  let  me  speak ! 

Aught  that  is  good  the  soul  receives  of  God 
When  He  hath  made  it  His  ;  and  until  then 
Man  cannot  know,  nor  do,  nor  be,  aught  good. 
Oh !  there  is  nought  on  earth  worth  being  known 


120  FKSTUS. 

But  God  and  our  own  souls  —  the  God  we  have 
Within  our  hearts  ;  for  it  is  not  the  hope, 
Nor  faith,  nor  fear,  nor  notions  others  have 
Of  God  can  serve  us,  but  the  sense  and  soul 
We  have  of  Him  within  us ;  and,  for  men, 
God  loves  us  men  each  individually, 
And  deals  with  us  in  order,  soul  by  soul. 

Lucifer.    What  are  your  politics  ? 

Farmer.  I  have  none. 

Lucifer.  Good. 

Farmer.    I  have  my  thoughts.    I  am  no  party 
man. 
I  care  for  measures  more  than  men,  but  think 
Some  little  may  depend  upon  the  men ; 
Something  in  tires  depends  upon  the  grate. 

First  Boy.     What  are  your  colors  ? 

Second.  Blue  as  Heaven. 

Third.  And  mine 

Are  yellow  as  the  sun. 

First.  Mine,  green  as  grass. 

Second.    Green  's  forsaken,  and  yellow 's  for- 
sworn, 
And  blue 's  the  color  that  shall  be  worn. 

Student.    As  to  religion,  politics,  law,  and  war, 
But  little  need  be  said.     All  are  required, 
And  all  are  well  enough.     Of  liberty, 
And  slavery,  and  tyranny  we  hear 
Much ;  but  the  human  mind  affects  extremes. 
The  heart  is  in  the  middle  of  the  system ; 
And  all  affections  gather  round  the  truth, 
The  moderated  joys  and  woes  of  life. 
I  love  my  God,  my  country,  kind  and  kin, 
Nor  would  I  see  a  dog  wronged  of  his  bone. 
My  country!  if  a  wretch  should  e'er  arise, 
Out  of  thy  countless  sons,  who  would  curtail 
Thy  freedom,  dim  thy  glory,  —  while  he  lives 
May  all  earth's  peoples  curse  him — for  of  all 
Hast  thou  secured  the  blessing;  —  and  if  one 
Exist  who  would  not  arm  for  liberty, 


FESTUS.  121 

Be  he  too  cursed  living,  and  when  dead, 
Let  him  be  buried  downwards,  with  his  face 
Looking  to  Hell,  and  o'er  his  coward  grave 
The  hare  skulk  in  her  form. 

Lucifer.  Nay,  gently,  friend. 

Curse  nothing,  not  the  Devil.     He's  beside  you — 
For  aught  you  know. 

Student.  I  neither  know  nor  care. 

(They  pass  some  card-players?) 

Festus.   Bangs,  queens,  knaves,  tens  would  trick 
the  world  away, 
And  it  were  not,  now  and  then,  for  some  brave  ace. 

Student.     You  see  yon  wretched,  starved  old 
man ;  his  brow 
Grooved  out  with  wrinkles,  like  the  brown  dry  sand 
The  tide  of  life  is  leaving? 

Lucifer.  Yes,  I  see  him. 

Student.     Last  week  he  thought  he  was  about 
to  die ; 
So  he  bade  gold  be  strewn  beneath  his  pillow, 
Gold  on  a  chest  that  he  might  lie  and  see, 
And  gold  put  in  a  basin  on  his  bed, 
That  he  might  dabble  with  his  fingers  in. 
He 's  going  now  to  grope  for  pence  or  pins. 
He  never  gave  a  pin's  worth  in  his  life. 
What  would  you  do  to  him  ? 

Lucifer.  I  would  have  him  wrought 

Into  a  living  wire,  which,  beaten  out, 
Might  make  a  golden  network  for  the  world ; 
Then  melt  him  inch  by  inch  and  hell  by  hell, 
Where  is  the  law  of  wrath. 

Student.  Oh,  charity! 

It  is  a  thought  the  Devil  might  be  proud  of — 
Once  and  away.     Misers  and  spendthrifts  may 
Torment  each  other  in  the  world  to  come. 

Ffstus.   Men  look  on  death  as  lightning,  always 
far 
Oif,  or  in  Heaven.     They  know  not  it  is  in 
Themselves,  a  strong  and  inward  tendency, 


122  FESTUS. 

The  soul  of  every  atom,  every  hair: 
That  nature's  infinite  electric  life, 
Escaping  from  each  isolated  frame, 
Up  out  of  earth,  or  down  from  Heaven,  becomes 
To  each  its  proper  death,  and  adds  itself 
Thus  to  the  great  reunion  of  the  whole. 
There  is  a  man  in  mourning !    What  does  he  here  ? 
Student.     He  has  just  buried  the  only  friend 

he  had, 
And  now  comes  hither  to  enjoy  himself. 

Festus.   Why  will  we  dedicate  the  dead  to  God, 
And  not  ourselves,  the  living?     Oft  we  speak, 
With  tears  of  joy  and  trust,  of  some  dear  friend 
As  surely  up  in  Heaven ;  while  that  same  soul, 
For  aught  we  know,  may  be  shuddering  even  in 

Hell 
To  hear  his  name  named ;  or  there  may  be  no 
Soul  in  the  case  —  and  the  fat  icy  worm, 
Give  him  a  tongue,  can  tell  us  all  about  him. 

Student.     Here  is  music.     Stay.     That  simple 

melody 
Comes  on  the  heart  like  infant  innocence  — 
Pure  feeling  pure  ;  while  yet  the  new-bodied  soul 
Is  swinging  to  the  motion  of  the  heavens, 
And  scarce  hath  caught,  as  yet,  earth's  backening 

course. 
Festus.     The  heart  is  formed  as  earth  was — its 

first  age 
Formless  and  void,  and  fit  but  for  itself; 
Then  feelings  half  alive,  just  organized, 
Come  next, — then  creeping  sports  and  purposes, — 
Then  animal  desires,  delights,  and  loves  — 
For  love  is  the  first  and  granite-like  effect 
Of  things  —  the  longest  and  the  highest;  next 
The    wild    and   winged    desires,   youth's    saurian 

schemes, 
Which  creep  and  fly  by  turns ;  which  kill,  and  eat, 
And  do  disgorge  each  other :  comes  at  length 
The  mould  of  perfect  matchless  manhood  —  then 


FESTUS.  123 

Woman  divides  the  heart,  and  multiplies  it. 

The  insipidity  of  innocence 

Palls  :  it  is  guilty,  happy,  and  undone. 

A  death  is  laid  upon  it,  and  it  goes  — 

Quits  its  green  Eden  for  the  sandy  world, 

Where  it  works  out  its  nature,  as  it  may, 

In  sweat,  smiles,  blood,  tears,  cursings,  and  what  not. 

And  giant  sins  possess  it ;  and  it  worships 

Works  of  the  hand,  head,  heart — its  own  or  others — 

A  creature  worship,  which  excludeth  God's  : 

The  less  thrusts  out  the  greater.     Warning  comes, 

But  the  heart  fears  not  —  feels  not ;  till  at  last 

Down   comes  the  flood  from   Heaven;   and  that 

heart, 
Broken  inwards,  earthlike,  to  its  central  hell ; 
Or  like  the  bright  and  burning  eye  we  see 
Inly,  when  pressed  hard  backwards  on  the  brain, 
Ends  and  begins  again  —  destroyed,  is  saved. 
Every  man  is  the  first  man  to  himself, 
And  Eves  are  just  as  plentiful  as  apples ; 
Nor  do  we  fall,  nor  are  we  saved  by  proxy. 
The  Eden  we  live  in  is  our  own  heart ; 
And  the  first  thing  we  do,  of  our  free  choice, 
Is  sure  and  necessary  to  be  sin.  [damned. 

Lucifer.     The  only  right  men  have  is  to  be 
What  is  the  good  of  music,  or  the  beauty  ? 
Music  tells  no  truths. 

Festus.  Oh  !  there  is  nought  so  sweet 

As  lying  and  listening  music  from  the  hands, 
And  singing  from  the  lips,  of  one  we  love  — 
Lips  that  all  others  should  be  turned  to.     Then 
The  world  would  all  be  love  and  song ;  Heaven's 

harps 
And  orbs  join  in :  the  whole  be  harmony  — 
Distinct,  yet  blended  —  blending  all  in  one 
Long  and  delicious  tremble  like  a  chord. 
But  to  Thee,  God  !  all  being  is  a  harp, 
Whereon  Thou  makest  mightiest  melody. 
Hast  ever  been  in  love  ? 


124  FESTUS. 

Student.  I  never  was. 

Festus.     'T  is  love  which  mostly  destinates  our 
life. 
What  makes  the  world  in  after  life  I  know  not, 
For  our  horizon  alters  as  we  age : 
Power  can  only  make  up  for  the  lack  of  love  — 
Power  of  some  sort.     The  mind  at  one  time  grows 
So  fast,  it  fails  ;  and  then  its  stretch  is  more 
Than  its  strength ;  but,  as  it  opes,  love  fills  it  up, 
Like  to  the  stamen  in  the  flower  of  life, 
Till  for  the  time  we  well-nigh  grow  all  love  ; 
And  soon  we  feel  the  want  of  one  kind  heart 
To  love  what  *s  well,  and  to  forgive  what 's  ill, 
In  us,  —  that  heart  we  play  for  at  all  risks. 

Student.     How  can  the  heart  which  lies  em- 
bodied deep, 
In  blood  and  bone,  set  like  a  ruby  eye 
Into  the  breast,  be  made  a  toy  for  beauty, 
And,   vane-like,   blown    about    by    every  wanton 

sigh? 
How  can  the  soul,  the  rich  star-travelled  stranger, 
Who  here  sojourneth  only  for  a  purchase, 
Risk  all  the  riches  of  his  years  of  toil, 
And  his  God-vouched  inheritance  of  Heaven, 
For  one  light  momentary  taste  of  love  ?      [sport  — 

Festus.    It  is  so ;  and  when  once  you  know  the 
The  crowded  pack  of  passions  in  full  cry  — 
The  sweet  deceits,  the  tempting  obstacles  — 
The  smile,  the  sigh,  the  tear,  and  the  embrace  — 
All  the  delights  of  love  at  last  in  one, 
With  kisses  close  as  stars  in  the  milky  way, 
In  at  the  death  you  cry,  though  'twere  your  own  ! 

Student.     Upon  my  soul,  most  sound  morality ! 
Nothing  is  thought  of  virtue,  then,  nor  judgment  ? 

Festus.     Oh!   every  thing  is  thought  of — but 
not  then, 
And — judgment  —  no  !  it  is  nowhere  in  the  field. 

Student.      Slow-paced  and  late  arriving,  still 
it  comes. 


FESTUS.  125 

I  cannot  understand  this  love  ;  I  hear 
Of  its  idolatry,  not  its  respect. 

Festus.     Respect  is  what  we  owe ;  love  what 
we  give. 
And  men  would  mostly  rather  give  than  pay. 
Morality 's  the  right  rule  for  the  world, 
Nor  could  society  cohere  without 
Virtue  ;  and  there  are  those  whose  spirits  walk 
Abreast  of  angels  and  the  future,  here. 
Respect  and  love  thou  such. 

Lucifer.  Of  course  you  wish 

Women  to  love  you  rather  than  love  them. 
It  is  better.     Now,  you  say  you  are  a  student. 
All  things  take  study ;  what  more  than  the  face  — 
Whether  your  own,  or  hers  you  look  and  long  at  ? 
There  are  many  ways  to  one  end  :  here  is  one  :  — 
You  are  good-looking ;  but  that  matters  little  : 
It  only  pleases  them.     To  please  yourself 

Your  face  may  be  as  ugly  as  the .   Well,  well ; 

But  you  must  cultivate  yourself:  it  will  pay  you. 
Study  a  dimple  ;  work  hard  at  a  smile  : 
The  things  most  delicate  require  most  pains. 
Practise  the  upward  —  now  the  sidelong  glance  — 
Now  the  long  passionful  unwinking  gaze, 
Which  beats  itself  at  last,  and  sees  air  only. 
Be  restless,  and  distress  yourself  for  her. 
Take  up  her  hand  —  press  it,  and  pore  on  it  — 
Let  it  drop  —  snatch  it  again  as  though  you  had 
Let  slip  so  much  of  honor  or  of  Heaven. 
Swear  —  voav  by  all  means  —  never  miss  an  oath  : 
If  broken,  why  it  only  spoils  itself; 
It  is  a  broken  oath  and  not  an  whole  one. 
Frown  —  toss  about  —  let  her  lips  be  for  a  time  : 
But  steal  a  kiss  at  last  like  fire  from  Heaven. 
Weep  if  you  can,  and  call  the  tears  heat-drops. 
Droop  your  head  —  sigh  deep  —  play  the  fool,  in 

short, 
One  hour,  and  she  will  play  the  fool  for  ever. 
Mind !  it  is  folly  to  tell  women  truth ; 


126  FESTUS. 

They  would  rather  live  on  lies  so  they  be  sweet. 

Never  be  long  in  one  mind  to  one  love. 

You  change  your  practice  with  your  subject.    All 

Differ.     But  yet,  who  knows  one  woman  well 

By  heart,  knows  all.     It  is  my  experience ; 

And  I  advise  on  good  authority. 

So  thank  me  for  my  lecture  on  delusion. 

Festus.     Time  laughs  at  love.     It  is  a  hateful 
sight, 
That  bald  old  gray-beard  jeering  the  boy,  Love. 
But  as  to  women :  that  game  has  two  sides. 
Passion  is  from  affection ;  and  there  is  nought 
So  maddening  and  so  lowering  as  to  have 
The  worse  in  passion.     Think,  when  one  by  one, 
Pride,  love,  and  jealousy,  and  fifty  more 
Great  feelings  column  up  to  force  a  heart. 
And  all  are  beaten  back  —  all  fail  —  all  fall : 
The  tower  intact :  but  risk  it :  we  must  learn. 
To  know  the  world,  be  wise  and  be  a  fool. 
The  heart  will  have  its  swing  —  the  world  its  way  : 
Who  seeks  to  stop  them,  only  throws  himself  down. 
We  must  take  as  we  find :  go  as  they  go, 
Or  stand  aside.     Let  the  world  have  the  wall. 
How  do  you  think,  pray,  to  get  through  the  world  ? 

Student.    I  mean  not  to  get  through  the  world 
at  all, 
But  over  it. 

Festus.     Aspiring !     You  will  find 
The  world  is  all  up-hill  when  we  would  do ; 
All  down-hill  when  we  suffer.     Nay,  it  will  part 
Like  the  Red  Sea,  so  that  the  poor  may  pass. 
We  make  our  compliments  to  wretchedness, 
And  hope  the  poor  want  nothing,  and  are  well. 
But  I  mean,  what  profession  will  you  choose  ? 
Surely  you  will  do  something  for  a  name. 

Student.     Names   are   of  much  more   conse- 
quence than  things.  [friend 

Festus.    Well;  here's  our  honest,  all-exhorting 
The  parson  —  here  the  doctor.    I  am  sure 


FESTUS.  127 

The  Devil  may  act  as  moderator  there, 
And  do  mankind  some  service. 

Lucifer.  In  his  way. 

Student.     But  I  care  neither  for  men's  souls 
nor  bodies. 

Festus.  What  say  you  to  the  law  ?  are  you  am- 
bitious ? 

Student.     Nor  do  I  mind  for  other  peoples 
business. 
I  have  no  heart  for  their  predicaments  : 
I  am  for  myself.     I  measure  every  thing 
By,  what  is  it  to  me  ?  from  which  I  find 
I  have  but  little  in  common  with  the  mass, 
Except  my  meals  and  so  forth  ;  dress  and  sleep. 
I  have  that  within  me  I  can  live  upon :  „ 

Spider-like,  spin  my  place  out  anywhere. 

Festus.    To  none  of  all  the  arts  and  sciences,  — 
Astronomy  nor  entomology, 
Nor  gunnery,  for  instance,  then  you  feel 
Attracted  heartily  and  mentally  ? 

Student.     Why  no ;    there  are  so  many  rise 
and  fall, 
One  knows  not  which  to  choose.     As  for  the  stars, 
I  never  look  on  them  without  dismay. 
Earth  has  outrun  them  in  our  modern  mind, 
By  worlds  of  odds.     Enough  for  us,  it  seems, 
And  our  cold  calculators  to  jot  down 
Their  revolutions,  distances,  and  squares ;  — 
And  the  bright  laws  which  stars  and  spirits  rule, 
Are  all  laid  out  and  buried  grave  on  grave. 
The  fourfold  worlds  and  elemental  spheres, 
Which  in  concentric  circles,  like  the  ring 
That  the  magician  stands  in,  from  on  high 
Give  spiritual  calling  to  our  earth, 
And  lord  it  over  her,  yet  in  such  wise, 
That  still  by  them  we  may  conjoin  our  souls 
Unto  the  starry  spirits  of  all  worlds ; 
Beyond  the  changeful  mansions  of  the  moon, 
Beyond  the  burning  heart  of  heaven,  where  dwell 


128  FESTUS. 

The  governors  of  nature  and  the  blest, 

All  knowing  spirits  and  celestial, 

And  divine  demons  ;  are  all  gone  —  extinct. 

There  is  no  danger  now  of  knowing  aught 

Which  ought  not  to  be  known.  No  more  of  that !  — • 

And  you,  ye  planetary  sons  of  light ! 

From  him  who  hovereth,  moth-like,  round  the  sun 

To  six-mooned  Uranus,  Light's  loftiest  round. 

Your  aspects,  dignities,  ascendancies, 

Your  partile  quartiles,  and  your  plastic  trines, 

And  all  your  Heavenly  houses  and  effects, 

Shall  meet  no  more  devout  expounders  here. 

You  too,  ye  juried  signs,  earth's  sunny  path 

Upon  her  wheeling  orbit,  all  farewell ! 

Yowr  exaltations  and  triplicities, 

Fiery,  airy,  and  the  rest ;  your  falls, 

And  detriments,  and  governments,  and  gifts, 

Are  all  abolished.     Henceforth  ye  shall  shine 

In  vain  to  man.     Diurnal,  cardinal, 

Nocturnal,  equinoctial,  hot  or  dry, 

Earthy,  or  moist,  or  feminine,  or  fixed, 

Luxurious,  violent,  bicorporate, 

Masculine,  barren,  and  commanding,  cold, 

Fruitful  or  watery,  or  what  not,  now 

It  matters  nothing.     The  joy  of  Jupiter, 

The  exaltation  of  the  Dragon's  head, 

The  sun's  triplicity  and  glorious 

Day  house  on  high,  the  moon's  dim  detriment, 

And  all  the  starry  inclusions  of  all  signs  — 

Shall  rise,  and  rule,  and  pass,  and  no  one  know 

That  there  are  spirit-rulers  of  all  worlds, 

Which  fraternize  with  earth,  and,  though  unknown, 

Hold  in  the  shining  voices  of  the  stars 

Communion  on  high,  ever  and  everywhere.  — 

The  mystic  charm  of  numbers,  and  the  sole 

Oneness  which  is  in  all,  of  nature's  great 

Triadic  principle,  in  all  things  seen  ; 

In  man  thus,  as  composed  of  thrice  three  forms 

Intrinsic  ;  first,  corporeally,  blood, 


FESTUS.  129 

Body,  and  bones ;  next,  intellectively, 
Imagination,  judgment,  memory ; 
And  thirdly,  spiritually,  mind  and  soul, 
And  spirit,  which  unites  with  God  the  whole 
Being,  and  comes  from  and  returns  to  Him,  — 
Allures  no  more  man's  mind  debased.     Thus,  too, 
Of  alchemy  ;  the  golden  starry  stone, 
Invisible,  the  principle  of  life,. 
The  quintessence  of  all  the  elements, 
Is  still  unbought;  —  still  flows  the  stream  of  pearl 
Beneath  the  magic  mountain  ;  still  the  scent 
As  of  a  thousand  amaranthine  wreaths,  which  lures 
All  life  unto  its  sweetness,  floats  around 
Mistlike,  the  shining  bath  where  Luna  laves, 
Or  Sol,  bright  brother  of  that  mooned  maid, 
Triumphs  in  light ;  —  the  spiritual  sun, 
The   Heavenly   Earth   smaragdine,   and  the   fire- 
Spirit  of  life,  the  live  land  still  exist, 
Immortally,  internally  unseen.  — 
Still  breathes  the  Paradisal  air  around 
The  universal  whole ;  the  watery  fire, 
Destructive,  yet  impalpable  to  sense, 
The  initial  and  conclusion  of  the  world, 
Yea,  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  Death, 
The  secret  which  is  shared  'tween  God  and  man, 
And  which  is  nature  only,  wholly,  still 
In  Heavenly  gloom  incomprehensible 
Wait  the  Deific  will ;  yea,  still  the  light 
Whereto  all  elements  contribute,  burns 
About  us  and  within  us,  world  and  soul ;  — 
The  primal  sperm  and  matter  of  the  world, 
Whose  centre  is  the  limit  of  all  things,  — 
The  snowy  gold,  the  star  and  spirit  seed 
Which  is  to  render  rich  and  deathless  all,  — 
The  self-begot,  self-wedded,  and  self-born, 
Which  the  wind  carries  in  its  womb,  all  have, 
And  few  receive  ;  the  spirit  of  the  earth, 
The  water  of  immortal  life  still  lives  :  — 
The  universal  solvent  of  disease 
9 


130  FESTUS. 

Still  bounds  through  nature's  veins ;  and  still,  in 

fine, 
The  secrets  only  to  be  told  by  fire 
Starry  or  beamlcss,  central  and  extreme, 
Burn  to  be  born.     And  other  natures  may 
Use  them,  and  do.     In  Demogorgon's  hall 
Still  sits  the  universal  mystery 
Throned  in  itself  and  ministered  unto 
By  its  own  members:  —  Man,  alas !  alone, 
The  recreant  spirit  of  the  universe, 
Contemns  the  operations  of  the  light ; 
Loves  surface-knowledge  ;  calls  the  crimes  of  crowds 
Virtue  :  adores  the  useful  vices  ;  licks 
The  gory  dust  from  off  the  feet  of  war, 
And  swears  it  food  for  gods,  though  fit  for  fiends 
Only :  —  reversing  just  the  Devil's  state 
When  first  he  entered  on  this  orb  of  man's,  — 
A  fallen  angel's  form,  a  reptile's  soul. 

Lucifer.     Oh  !  this  is  libellous  toman  and  fiend 
And  brute  together. 

Student.  All  are  art  and  part 

Of  the  same  mystic  treason.     But  enough; — 
The  most  material,  immaterial 
Departments  of  pure  wisdom  are  despised. 
For  well  we  know  that,  properly  prepared, 
Souls  self-adapted  knowledge  to  receive 
Are  by  the  truth  desired,  illumined ;  man's 
Spirit,  extolled,  dilated,  clarified, 
By  holy  meditation  and  divine 
Lore,  fits  him  to  convene  with  purer  powers 
Which  do  unseen  surround  us  aye  and  gladden 
In  human  good  and  exaltation  ;  thus 
The  face  of  Heaven  is  not  more  clear  to  one, 
Than  to  another  outwardly  ;  but  one 
By  strong  intention  of  his  soul  perceives, 
Attracts,  unites  himself  to  essences 
And  elemental  spirits  of  wider  range 
And  more  beneficent  nature,  by  whose  aid 
Occasion,  circumstance,  futurity 


FESTUS.  131 

Impress  on  him  their  image,  and  impart 
Their  secrets  to  his  soul ;  thus  chance  and  lot 
Are  sacred  things  ;  thus  dreams  are  verities. 
But  oh  !  alas  for  all  earth's  loftier  lore, 
And  spiritual  sympathy  of  worlds  !  — 
There  shall  be  no  more  magic  nor  cabala, 
Nor  Rosicrucian  nor  Alchymic  lore, 
Nor  fairy  fantasies  ;  no  more  hobgoblins, 
Nor  ghosts,  nor  imps,  nor  demons.     Conjurors, 
Enchanters,  witches,  wizards,  shall  till  die 
Hopeless  and  heirless  ;  their  divining  arts 
Supernal  or  infernal  —  dead  with  them. 
And  so  't  will  doubtless  be  with  other  things 
In  time  ;  therefore  I  will  commit  my  brain 
To  none  of  them. 

Festus.  Perchance  't  were  wiser  not. 

Man's  heart  hath  not  half  uttered  itself  yet, 
And  much  remains  to  do  as  well  as  say. 
The  heart  is  some  time  ere  it  finds  its  focus. 
And  when  it  does,  with  the  whole  light  of  nature 
Strained  through  it  to  a  hair's  breadth,  it  but  burns 
The  things  beneath  it,  which  it  lights  to  death. 
Well,  farewell,  Mr.  Student.     May  you  never 
Regret  those  hours  which  make  the  mind,  if  they 
Unmake  the  body ;  for  the  sooner  we 
Are  fit  to  be  all  mind,  the  better.     Blest 
Is  he  whose  heart  is  the  home  of  the  great  dead, 
And  their  great  thoughts.     Who  can  mistake  great 

thoughts  ? 
They  seize  upon  the  mind — arrest,  and  search, 
And  shake  it  —  bow  the  tall  soul  as  by  wind  — 
Rush  over  it  like  rivers  over  reeds, 
Which  quaver  in  the  current  —  turn  us  cold, 
And  pale,  and  voiceless  ;  leaving  in  the  brain 
A  rocking  and  a  ringing,  —  glorious 
But  momentary,  madness  might  it  last, 
And  close  the  soul  with  Heaven  as  with  a  seal ! 
In  lieu  of  all  these  things  whose  loss  thou  mournest, 
If  earnestly  or  not  I  know  not,  use 


132  FESTUS. 

The  great  and  good  and  true  which  ever  live, 

And  are  all  common  to  pure  eyes  and  true. 

Upon  the  summit  of  each  mountain-thought 

Worship  thou  God ;  for  Deity  is  seen 

From  every  elevation  of  the  soul. 

Study  the  Light ;  attempt  the  high ;  seek  out 

The  soul's  bright  path ;   and  since  the  soul  is  fire 

Of  heat  intelligential,  turn  it  aye 

To  the  all-Fatherly  source  of  light  and  life; 

Piety  purines  the  soul  to  see 

Perpetual  apparitions  of  all  grace 

And  power,  Avhich  to  the  sight  of  those  who  dwell 

In  ignorant  sin  are  never  known.     Obey 

Thy  genius,  for  a  minister  it  is 

Unto  the  throne  of  Fate.     Draw  to  thy  soul, 

And  centralize  the  rays  which  are  around 

Of  the  Divinity.     Keep  thy  spirit  pure 

From  worldly  taint  by  the  repellant  strength 

Of  virtue.     Think  on  noble  thoughts  and  deeds, 

Ever.     Count  o'er  the  rosary  of  truth  ; 

And  practice  precepts  which  are  proven  wise. 

It  matters  not  then  what  thou  fearest.     Walk 

Boldly  and  wisely  in  that  light  thou  hast ;  — 

There  is  a  hand  above  will  help  thee  on. 

I  am  an  omnist,  and  believe  in  all 

Religions,  —  fragments  of  one  golden  world 

Yet  to  be  relit  in  its  place  in  Heaven  — 

For  all  are  relatively  true  and  false, 

As  evidence  and  earnest  of  the  heart 

To  those  who  practice,  or  have  faith  in  them. 

The  absolutely  true  religion  is 

In  Heaven  only,  yea  in  Deity. 

But  foremost  of  all  studies,  let  me  not 

Forget  to  bid  thee  learn  Christ's  faith  by  heart. 

Study  its  truths,  and  practice  its  behests  : 

They  are  the  purest,  sweetest,  peacefullest, 

Of  all  immortal  reasons  or  records  : 

They  will  be  with  thee  when  all  else  have  gone. 

Mind,  body,  passion,  all  wear  out  —  not  faith, 


FESTUS.  133 

Nor  truth.     Keep  thy  heart  cool,  or  rule  its  heat 

To  fixed  ends :  waste  it  not  upon  itself. 

Not  all  the  agony  of  all  the  damned, 

Fused  in  one  pang,  vies  with  that  earthquake  throb 

Which  wakens  it  from  waste  to  let  us  see 

The  world  rolled  by  for  aye  ;   and  that  we  must 

Wait  an  eternity  for  our  next  chance, 

Whether  it  be  in  Heaven  or  elsewhere. 

Student.  Sir,. 

I  will  remember  this  most  grave  advice, 
And  think  of  you  with  all  respect. 

Festus.  Well,  mind! 

The  worst  men  often  give  the  best  advice. 
Our  deeds  are  sometimes  better  than  our  thoughts. 
Commend  me,  friend,  to  every  one  you  meet : 
I  am  an  universal  favorite. 
Old  men  admire  me  deeply  for  my  beauty, 
Young  women  for  my  genius  and  strict  virtue, 
And  young  men  for  my  modesty  and  wisdom. 
All  turn  to  me,  whenever  I  speak,  full-faced, 
As  planets  to  the  sun,  or  owls  to  a  rushlight. 
Farewell ! 

Student.    I  hope  to  meet  again. 

Festus.  And  I.  — 

Yonder  *s  a  woman  singing.     Let  us  hear  her. 

Singer.     In  the  gray  church  tower 

Were  the  clear  bells  ringing  • 
When  a  maiden  sat  in  her  lonely  bower 

Sadly  and  lowly  singing, 
And  thus  she  sang,  that  maiden  fair, 
Of  the  soft  blue  eyes  and  the  long  light  hair  • 

This  hand  hath  oft  been  held  by  one 

Who  now  is  far  away  ; 
And  here  I  sit  and  sigh  alone 

Through  all  the  weary  day. 
Oh,  when  will  he  I  love  return  ! 
Oh,  when  shall  I  forget  to  mourn ! 


134  FESTUS. 

Along  the  dark  and  dizzy  path 

Ambition  madly  runs, 
'T  is  there  they  say  his  course  he  hath, 

And  therefore  love  he  shuns. 
Oh,  fame  and  honor  bind  his  brow, 
For  so  he  would  be  with  me  now  ! 

In  the  gray  church  tower 

Were  the  clear  bells  ringing, 
When  a  bounding  step  in  that  lonely  bower 

Broke  on  the  maiden  singing ; 
She  turned,  she  saw ;  oh,  happy  fair ! 
For  her  love  who  loved  her  so  well  was  there  ! 

Lucifer.    And  we  might  trust  these  youths  and 
maidens  fair, 
The  world  was  made  for  nothing  but  love,  love  ! 
Now  I  think  it  was  made  but  to  be  burned. 

Festus.    And  if  I  love  not  now,  while  woman  is 
All  bosom  to  the  young,  when  shall  I  love  ? 
Who  ever  paused  on  passion's  fiery  wheel  ? 
Or  trembling  by  the  side  of  her  he  loved 
Whose  lightest  touch  brings  all  but  madness,  ever 
Stopped  coldly  short  to  reckon  up  his  pulse  ? 
The  car  comes  —  and  we  lie  —  and  let  it  come  ; 
It  crushes  —  kills  —  what  then  ?     It  is  joy  to  .die. 
Enough  shall  not  fool  me.     I  fling  the  foil 
Away.     Let  me  but  look  on  aught  which  casts 
The  shadow  of  a  pleasure,  and  here  I  bare 
A  breast  which  would  embrace  a  bride  of  fire. 
Pleasure  —  we  part  not !    No  !     It  were  easier 
To  wring  God's  lightnings  from  the  grasp  of  God. 
I  must  be  mad ;  but  so  is  all  the  world. 
Folly.     It  matters  not.     What  is  the  world 
To  me  ?    Nought.    I  am  all  things  to  myself. 
If  my  heart  thundered,  would  the  world  rock  ? 

Well  — 
Then  let  the  mad  world  fight  its  shadow  down ; 
There  soon  will  be  nor  sun,  nor  world,  nor  shadow. 
And  thou,  my  blood,  my  bright  red  running  soul  — 


FESTUS.  135 

Rejoice  thou,  like  a  river,  in  thy  rapids ! 

Rejoice  —  thou  wilt  never  pale  with  age,  nor  thin  ; 

But  in  thy  full  dark  beauty,  vein  by  vein, 

Fold  by  fold,  serpent-like,  encircling  me 

Like  a  stag,  sunstruck,  top  thy  bounds  and  die. 

Throb,  bubble,  sparkle,  laugh  and  leap  along ! 

Make  merry  while  the  holidays  shall  last. 

Heart !  I  could  tear  thee  out,  thou  fool !   thou  fool ! 

And  strip  thee  into  shreds  upon  the  wind : 

What  have  I  done  that  thou  shouldst  serve  me 

thus? 
Lucifer.    Let  us  away.     We  have  had  enough 

of  this. 
Festus.    The  night  is  glooming  on  us.    It  is  the 

hour 
When  lovers  will  speak  lowly,  for  the  sake 
Of  being  nigh  each  other ;  and  when  love 
Shoots  up  the  eye  like  morning  on  the  east, 
Making  amends  for  the  long  northern  night 
They  passed  ere  either  knew  the  other  loved. 
It  is  the  hour  of  hearts,  when  all  hearts  feel 
As  they  could  love  to  mad  death,  finding  aught 
To  give  back  fire ;  for  love,  like  nature,  is 
War  —  sweet  war !     Arms  !     To  arms  !  so  they  be 

thine, 
Woman !    Old  people  may  say  what  they  please  — 
The  heart  of  age  is  like  an  emptied  wine-cup, 
Its  life  lies  in  a  heel-tap  — how  can  they  judge  ? 
'Twere  a  waste  of  time  to  ask  how  they  wasted 

theirs. 
But  while  the  blood  is  bright,  breath  sweet,  skin 

smooth, 
And  limbs  all  made  to  minister  delight  — 
Ere  yet  we  have  shed  our  locks  like  trees  their 

leaves, 
And  we  stand  staring  bare  into  the  air  — 
He  is  a  fool  who  is  not  for  love  and  beauty. 
I  speak  unto  the  young,  for  I  am  of  them, 
And  alway  shall  be.     What  are  years  to  me  ? 


136  FESTUS. 

Traitors !  that  vice-like  fang  the  hand  ye  lick : 
Ye  fall  like  small  birds  beaten  by  a  storm 
Against  a  dead  wall,  dead.     I  pity  ye. 
Oli!  that  such  mean  things  should  raise  hope  or 

fear; 
Those  Titans  of  the  heart,  that  fight  at  Heaven 
And  sleep  by  fits  on  fire ;  whose  slightest  stir 's 
An  earthquake.     I  am  bound  and  blest  to  youth ! 
Oh  !  give  me  to  the  young —  the  fair —  the  free  — 
The  brave,  who  would  breast  a  rushing,  burning 

world 
Which  came  between  them  and  their  heart's  de- 
light. 
None  but  the  brave  and  beautiful  can  love. 
Oh,  for  the  young  heart  like  a  fountain  playing  I 
Flinging  its  bright,  fresh  feelings  up  to  the  skies 
It  loves  and   strives  to  reach  —  strives,   loves   in 

vain ; 
It  is  of  earth,  and  never  meant  for  Heaven. 
Let  us  love  both,  and  die.     The  sphinx-like  heart, 
Consistent  in  its  inconsistency, 
Loathes  life  the  moment  that  life's  riddle  is  read : 
The  knot  of  our  existence  is  untied, 
And  we  lie  loose  and  useless.     Life  is  had ; 
And  then  we  sigh,  and  say,  can  this  be  all  ? 
It  is  not  what  we  thought  —  it  is  very  well  — - 
But  we  want  something  more  —  there  is  but  death. 
And  when  we  have  said,  and  seen,  and  done,  and 

had, 
Enjoyed  and  suffered,   all   we   have   wished   and 

feared  — 
From  fame  to  ruin,  and  from  love  to  loathing — 
There  can  come  but  one  more  change  —  try  it — > 

death. 
Oh  !  it  is  great  to  feel  we  care  for  nothing  — 
That  hope,  nor  love,  nor  fear,  nor  aught  of  earth 
Can  check  the  royal  lavishment  of  life ; 
But  like  a  streamer  strown  upon  the  wind, 
We  fling  our  souls  to  fate  and  to  the  future. 


FESTUS.  •  137 

And  to  die  young  is  youth's  divinest  gift,  — 
To  pass  from  one  world  fresh  into  another, 
Ere  change  hath  lost  the  charm  of  soft  regret, 
And  feel  the  immortal  impulse  from  within 
Which  makes  the  coming,  life  —  cry,  alway,  on  ! 
And   follow   it   while    strong  —  is    Heaven's    last 

mercy. 
There  is  a  fire-fly  in  the  southern  clime 
Which  shineth  only  when  upon  the  wing ; 
So  is  it  with  the  mind :  when  once  we  rest, 
We  darken.     On  !  said  God  unto  the  soul 
As  to  the  earth,  for  ever.     On  it  goes, 
A  rejoicing  native  of  the  infinite  — ■ 
As  a  bird  of  air  —  an  orb  of  heaven. 


Scene —  The  centre. 

Festus  and  Lucifer. 

Lucifer.     Behold  us  in  the  fire-crypts  of  the 
world ! 
Through  seas  and  buried  mountains  tomblike  tracts, 
Fit  to  receive  the  skeleton  of  Death 
When  he  is  dead  —  through  earthquakes,  and  the 

bones 
Of  earthquake-swallowed  cities,  have  we  wormed 
Down  to  the  ever-burning  forge  of  fire, 
Whereon  in  awful  and  omnipotent  ease 
Nature,  the  delegate  of  God,  brings  forth 
Her  everlasting  elements,  and  breathes 
Around  that  fluent  heat  of  life  which  clothes 
Itself  in  lightnings,  wandering  through  the  air, 
And  pierces  to  the  last  and  loftiest  pore 
Of  Earth's  snow-mantled  mountains.  In  these  vaults 
Are  hid  the  archives  of  the  universe  ; 
And  here,  the  ashes  of  all  ages  gone, 
Each  finally  inurned.     These  pillars  stand, 
Earth's  testimony  to  eternity. 


138  FESTUS. 

Festus.     All  that  is  solid  now  was  fluid  once  ; 
Water,  or  air,  or  fire,  or  some  one 
Permanent,  permeating,  element ; 
As  in  this  focal,  world-evolving  fire 
Like  what  I  see  around  —  the  vacuous  power 
Whereon  the  world  is  based,  e'en  as  wherein 
It  rolls,  I  must  believe. 

Lucifer.  The  original 

Of  all  things  is  one  thing.     Creation  is 
One  whole.     The  differences  a  mortal  sees 
Are  diverse  only  to  the  finite  mind. 

Festus.      This  marble-walled  immensity   o'er- 
roofed 
With  pendant  mountains  glittering,  awes  my  soul. 
God's  hand  hath  scooped  the  hollow  of  this  world ; 
Yea,  none  but  his  could  ;  and  I  stand  in  it, 
Like  a  forgotten  atom  of  the  light, 
Some  star  hath  lost  upon  its  lightning  flight. 

Lucifer.     Here  mayst  thou  lay  thy  hand  on 
nature's  heart, 
And  feel  its  thousand  yearcd  throbbings  cease. 
High  overhead,  and  deep  beneath  our  feet, 
The   sea's  broad  thunder    booms,   scarce    heard ; 

around, 
The  arches,  like  uplifted  continents 
Of  starry  matter,  burning  inwardly, 
Stand ;  and,  hard  by,  earth's  gleaming  axle  sleeps, 
All  moving,  all  unmoved. 

Festus.  Age  here  on  age 

Lie  heaped  like   withered  leaves.      And   must  it 
end? 

Lucifer.    God  worketh  slowly  :  and  a  thousand 
years 
He  takes  to  lift  his  hand  off.     Layer  on  layer 
He  made  earth,  fashioned  it  and  hardened  it 
Into  the  great,  bright,  useful  thing  it  is  ; 
Its  seas,  life-crowded,  and  soul-hallowed  lands 
He  girded  with  the  girdle  of  the  sun, 
That  sets  its  bosom  glowing  like  Love's  own 


FESTUS.  134 

Breathless  embrace,  close-clinging  as  for  life  ;  — 

Veined  it  with  gold,  and  dusted  it  with  gems, 

Lined  it  with  fire,  and  round  its  heart-fire  bowed 

Rock-ribs  unbreakable ;  until  at  last 

Earth  took  her  shining  station  as  a  star, 

In   Heaven's   dark   hall,   high   up   the    crowd    of 

worlds. 
All  this  and  thus  did  God  ;  and  yet  it  ends. 
The  ball  He  rolled  and  rounded,  melts  away 
E'en  now  to  its  constituent  atomies. 

Festus.      It   is   enough.      Though   here    were 

posited 
All  secrets  of  existence,  natural 
Or  supernatural,  dwell  not  here  would  I, 
Though  't  were  to  drain  profoundest  fountains.  No 
I  love  it  not,  the  science  nor  the  scene. 
I  long  to  know  again  the  fresh  green  earth, 
The  breathing  breeze,  the  sea  and  sacred  stars. 
These  recollections  crowd  upon  my  soul, 
As  constellations  on  the  evening  skies, 
And  will  not  be  forgotten.     Let  us  leave ! 

Lucifer.     Aught  that  reminds  the  exile  of  his 

home 
Is  surely  pleasant.     I,  friend,  am  content. 

Festus.    I  cannot  be   content  with  less  than 

Heaven. 
O  Heaven,  I  love  thee  ever!  sole  and  whole, 
Living  and  comprehensive  of  all  life  ; 
Thee,  agy  world,  thee,  universal  Heaven, 
And  heavenly  universe  !  thee,  sacred  seat 
Of  intellective  Time,  the  throned  stars 
And  old  oracular  night ;  —  by  night  or  day, 
To  me  thou  canst  not  but  be  beautiful, 
Boundless,  all-central,  universal  sphere  ! 
Whether  the  sun  all-light  thee,  or  the  moon, 
Embayed  in  clouds,  mid  starry  islands  round, 
With  mighty  beauty  inundate  the  air ;  — 
Or  when  one  star,  like  a  great  drop  of  light, 
From  her  full  flowing  urn  hangs  tremulous,  — 


140  FESTUS. 

Yea,  like  a  tear  from  her  the  eye  of  night, 

Let  fall  o'er  nature's  volume  as  she  reads :  — 

Or,  when  in  radiant  thousands,  each  star  reigns 

In  imparticipable  royalty, 

Leaderless,  uncontrasted  with  the  light 

Wherein  their  light  is  lost,  the  sons  of  fire, 

Arch  element  of  the  Heavens  ;  —  when  storm  and 

cloud 
Debar  the  mortal  vision  of  the  eye 
From  wandering  o'er  thy  threshold,  —  more  and 

more 
I  love  thee,  thinking  on  the  splendid  calm 
Which  bounds  the  deadly  fever  of  these  days  — 
The  higher,  holier,  spiritual  Heaven. 
And  when   this  world,  within  whose   heartstrings 

now 
I  feel  myself  encoiled,  shall  be  resolved, 
Thee  I  shall  be  permitted  still,  perchance, 
To  love  and  live  in  endlessly. 

Lucifer.  All  here 

Thou  seest  hath  holden  fellowship  with  gods  ; 
With  eldest  Time  and  primal  matter,  space, 
And  stars,  and  air,  and  all-inherent  fire, 
The  watery  deep  and  chaos,  night,  the  all, 
And  the  interior  immortality, 
And  first-begotten  Love.     These  rocks  retain 
Their  caverned  footsteps  printed  in  pure  fire. 
Those  were  the  times,  the  ancient  youth  of  earth, 
The  elemental  years,  when  earth  and  Heaven 
Made  one  in  holy  bridals,  —  royal  gods 
Their  bright  immortal  issue  :  when  men's  minds 
Were  vast  as  continents,  and  not  as  now 
Minute  and  indistinguishable  plots, 
With  here  and  there  acres  of  untilled  brains  ;  when 

lived 
The  great  original,  broad-eyed,  sunken  race, 
Whose  wisdom,  like  these  sea-sustaining  rocks, 
Hath  formed  the  base   of  the   world's  fluctuous 

lore :  — 


FESTUS.  141 

When,  too,  by  mountainous  travail,  human  might 
Sought  to  possess  the  everlasting  Heavens, 
And  incommunicable,  by  the  right 
Of  self-acquirement  and  high  kindred  with 
Celestial  virtues  ;  —  when  the  mortal  powers  — 
Forecounsel,  wisdom,  and  experience, 
Teachers  of  all  arts,  founders  of  all  good, 
With  Godhood  strove,  and  gloriously  failed  — 
In  failure  half  successful ;  as  these  scenes, 
Fire-fountains,  and  volcano-utterances, 
Earth-heavings,  island  vomitings,  evince. 

Festus.     The  world  hath  made  such  comet-like 
advance 
Lately  on  science,  we  may  almost  hope, 
Before  we  die  of  sheer  decay,  to  learn 
Something  about  our  infancy.     But  me 
This  troubles  not.     Were   all    earth's    mountain 

chains 
To  utter  fire  at  once,  what  a  grand  show 
Of  pyrotechny  for  our  neighbor  moon  ! 
Let  us  ascend  ;  but  not  through  the  charred  throat 
Of  an  extinct  volcano. 

Lucifer.  This  way  —  down. 

So  shalt  thou  thread  the  world  at  once. 

Festus.  Haste,  haste. 


Scene  —  A  ruined  Temple. 

Festus  and  Lucifer. 

Festus.     Here  will  I  worship  solely. 

Lucifer.  'T  is  a  fane 

Once  sacred  to  the  Sun. 

Festus.  It  matters  not 

What  false  god  here  hath  falsely  been  adored, 
Or  what  life-hating  rites  these  walls  have  viewed. 
The  truly  holy  soul,  which  hath  received 
The  unattainable,  can  hallow  hell. 
Now  to  the  only  true  and  Triune  God 


142  FESTUS. 

These  walls  shall  echo  praise,  if  never  yet. 

Bring  me  a  morsel  of  the  fire  without ; 

For  I  will  make  a  sacred  offering 

To  God,  as  though  the  High  Priest  of  the  world. 

He  lacks  not  consecration  at  best  hands 

Whom  Thou  hast  hallowed,  Lord,  by  choice  ;  and 

these, 
The  elements  I  offer,  Thou  hast  made 
Holy,  by  making  them. 

Lucifer.  Lo  !  here  is  fire. 

I  will  await  thee  in  the  air. 

Festus.  Withdraw ! 

Thine,  Lord  !  are  all  the  elements  and  worlds ;  — 
The  sun  is  Thy  bright  servant,  and  the  moon 
Thy  servant's  servant ;  —  the  round  rushing  earth, 
The  lifeful  air,  the  thousand  winged  winds, 
The  Heaven-kinned  fire,  the  continental  clouds, 
The  sea  broad  breasted,  and  the  tranced  lake, 
The  rich  arterial  rivers,  and  the  hills 
Which  wave  their  woody  tresses  in  the  breeze, 
In  grateful  undulation,  all  are  Thine ;  — 
Thine  are  the  snow-robed  mountains  circling  earth 
As  the  white  spirits  God  the  Saviour's  throne  ;  — 
Thine  the  bright  secrets,  central  in  all  orbs, 
And  rudimental  mysteries  of  life. 
The  sun-starred  night,  the  ever-maiden  morn, 
The  all-prevailing  day,  consummate  eve, 
Confess  them  Thine  through  the  perpetual  world :  — ■ 
All  art  hath  wrought  from  earth,  or  science  lured 
From  truth,  like  flame  out  of  the  fire  cloud,  are 
Thine  ;  —  Thine  the  glory,  all  belongs  to  Thee, 
Finite,  indefinite,  and  infinite, 
As  mountains  to  a  world,  as  worlds  to  Heaven. 
The  high  doomed  city  and  the  toilful  town 
And  early  hamlet,  —  all  that  live  or  die, 
That  flourish  or  decay,  that  change,  or  stand 
Before  Thy  face,  unchanged,  exist  for  Thee, 
Or  are  not  at  Thy  bidding  ;  Thine,  all  souls  ; 
Atom  and  world,  the  universe  is  Thine !  — 


FESTUS  143 

Thou  canst  as  easily  turn  Thy  kindest  eye 

From  comprehending  the  bright  Infinite, 

To  this  crushed  temple,  where  the  wild  flower  decks 

Its  earthquake-rifted  walls,  and  the  birds  build 

In  corners  of  its  columned  capitals,  — 

And  to  this  crumbling  heart  I  offer  here, 

As  trust  Thine  own  Eternity.     Behold  ! 

Accept,  I  pray  Thee,  Lord  !  this  sacrifice  ; 

These  elemental  offerings  simple,  pure, 

Which  in  the  name  of  man  I  make  to  Thee, 

Formless,  save  prostrate  soul  and  kneeling  heart  — 

In  token  of  Thy  perfect  monarchy 

And  all  comprising  mercy.     These  are#they  ! 

A  flowery  turf,  a  branch,  a  burning  coal, 

A  cup  of  water  and  an  empty  bowl ; 

This  air-filled  bowl  is  typic  of  the  world 

Thou  fillest  with  Thy  spirit,  and  the  soul, 

Receptive  of  Thy  life-conferring  truth  ;  — 

This  the  symbolic  element  wherefrom 

We  are  to  be  reborn,  wherein  made  pure  ; 

Those  whom  Thou  choosest  are  to  be  redeemed 

Out  of  the  mighty  multitudes  of  men  ; 

Yet  all  as  of  one  nature  be  redeemed. 

This  coal,  torn  flaming  from  the  earth,  proclaims 

Thy  sin-consuming  mercy  as  of  earth ; 

And  may  our  souls  ever  aspire  to  Thee, 

As  these  pale  flames  unto  the  stars  ;  this  turf 

Is  as  the  earthy  nature  and  abode 

We  would  subject  to  Thee  ;  and  lieth  here, 

The  representative  of  every  star 

And  world-extended  matter  !  Lord  !  this  branch, 

Which  waveth  high  o'er  all,  oh,  let  it  sign 

Thine  own  Eternal  Son's  humanity, 

WTiich  was  on  earth,  yet  ever  lives  in  Heaven, 

Redemptive  of  all  Being.     Golden  Branch  ! 

Which,  in  the  eld-time,  seer's  and  sybil's  words, 

Full  of  dark  central  thought  and  mystic  truth, 

Foretold  should  overspread  the  spirit  world, 

And  with  its   fruit  heal  every  wound  of  Death, — 


144  FESTUS. 

Tree  of  eternal  life,  Thee  all  adore. 

Accept  this  prayer,  O  Saviour  !  that  if  men 

Can  nothing  do  but  sin,  Thou  mayst  forgive 

The  creature  crime,  and  bring  back  all  to  Thee. 

Thou  art  the  one  who  made  the  universe  ; 

Yet   didst    Thou   walk   on   earth ;    Thou   brakest 

bread 
And  drankest  wine  with  men,  betokening  so 
Thine  own  complete,  Divine  Humanity. 
May  all  obey  Thy  words  and  do  Thy  will ! 
We  praise  Thee  God,  our  father ;  whoso  would 
Be  saved,  let  him  believe  in  Thee  Triune. 
Thou  doest  all  things  rightly ;  all  are  best, 
Sorrow,  or  joy,  or  power,  or  suffering. 
Providing,  therefore,  all  things  that  must  be 
And  ought  to  be,  as  Thou  dost  and  hast  done, 
From  the  beginning  even  to  the  end, 
This  heart  let  cease  from  prayer,  these  lips  from 

praise, 
Save  that  which  life  shall  offer  pauselessly. 
Now  go  I  forth  again  refreshed,  consoled, 
Upon  my  time-enduring  pilgrimage. 
Ho  !  Lucifer ! 

Lucifer.        I  wait  thee. 

Festus.  Whither  next  ? 

Lucifer.     As  thou  wilt,  apposite  or  opposite. 
'Tis  light  translateth  night;  'tis  inspiration 
Expounds  experience  ;  'tis  the  west  explains 
The  east:  'tis  time  unfolds  Eternity. 


Scene  —  A  Metropolis  —  Public  Place, 
Festus  and  Lucifer. 

Festus.     What  can  be  done  here  ? 
Lucifer.  Oh !  a  thousand  things, 

As  well  as  elsewhere. 

Festus.  True ;  it  is  a  place 


FESTUS.  145 

Where  passion,  occupation,  or  reflection, 
May  find  fit  food  or  field ;  but  suits  not  me. 
My  burden  is  the  spirit,  and  my  life 
Is  henceforth  solely  spiritual. 

Lucifer.  Well ;  — 

At  the  occurrent  season,  too,  it  shall 
Be  satisfied.  It  might  be  even  now, 
From  things  about  us.     But  look,  here  comes  a 

man 
Thou  knowest  well. 

Festus.  I  do.     Stop,  friend  !  of  late 

I  have  not  seen  thee.    Whither  goest  thou  now  ? 

Friend.     I  am  upon  my  business,  and  in  haste. 

Festus.     Business  I  I  thought  thou  wast  a  sim- 
ple schemer. 

Friend.    Mayhap  I  am. 

Festus.  There  is  a  visionary 

Business,  as  well  as  visionary  faith. 

Friend.    I  have  been,  all  life,  living  in  a  mine, 
Lancing  the  world  for  gold.     I  have  not  yet 
Fingered  the  right  vein.     Oh  !  I  often  wish 
The  time  would  come  again,  which  science  prates  of, 
When  earth's  bright  veins  ran  ruddy,  virgin  gold. 
•    Festus.    When  the  world's  gold  melts,  all  the 

poorer  metals, 
All  things  less  pure,  less  precious,  all  beside, 
Will  vanish  ;  nought  be  left  but  gems  and  gold. 
If  all  were  rich,  gold  would  be  penniless. 

Lucifer.    I  have  a  secret  I  would  fain  impart 
To  one  who  would  make  right  use  of  it.   Now,  mark ! 
Chemists  say  there  are  fifty  elements, 
And  more  ;  —  wouldst  know  a  ready  recipe 
For  riches  ?  — 

Friend.     That  indeed  1  would,  good  sir. 

Lucifer.     Get  then  these  fifty  earths,  or  ele- 
ments, 
Or  what  not.    Mix  them  up  together.     Put 
All  to  the  question.     Tease  them  well  with  fire, 
Vapor,  and  trituration  - —  every  way  ; 
10 


146  FESTUS. 

Add  the  right  quantity  of  lunar  rays ; 

Boil  them,  and  let  them  cool,  and  watch  what  comes. 

Friend.     Thrice  greatest  Hermes  !  but  it  must 
be ;  yes ! 
I'll  go  and  get  them  ;  good  day, — instantly.  [Goes. 

Lucifer.    He  '11  be  astonished,  probably. 

Festus.  He  will, 

In  any  issue  of  the  experiment. 
Perhaps  the  nostrum  may  explode  and  blow  him 
Body  and  soul  to  atoms  and  to  — 

Lucifer.  Nonsense ! 

Festus.     There  needs  no  satire  on  men's  rage 
for  gold ; 
Their  nature  is  the  best  one,  and  excuse. 
And  now  what  next  ? 

Lucifer.  Why  let  us  take  our  ease 

Beside  this  feathery  fountain.     It  is  cool 
And  pleasant,  and  the  people  passing  by, 
Fit  subjects  for  two  moralists  like  us. 
Here  we  can  speculate  on  policy, 
On  social  manners,  fashions,  and  the  news. 
Now  the  political  aspect  of  the  world, 
At  present,  is  most  cheerful.     To  begin, 
Like  charity,  at  home.     Out  of  all  wrongs 
The  most  atrocious,  the  most  righteous  ends 
Are  happiest  wrought. 

Festus.  It  ofttimes  chances  so. 

Lucifer.     Take  of  the  blood  of  martyrs,  tears 
of  slaves, 
The  groans  of  prisoned  patriots,  and  the  sweat 
Wrung  from  the  bones  of  Famine,  like  parts.    Add 
Vapor  of  orphan's  sigh,  and  wail  of  all 
Whom  war  hath  spoiled,  or  law  first  fanged,  then 

gorged ;  — 
The  stifled  breath  of  man's  free  natural  thought,  — 
The  tyrant's  lies ;  the  curses  of  the  proud ; 
The  usurpations  of  the  lawful  heir, 
The  treasonous  rebellions  of  the  wise, 
The  poor  man's  patient  prayers  ;  and  let  all  these 


FESTUS.  147 

Simmer,  some  centuries,  o'er  the  slow  red  lire 
Of  human  wrath  ;  and  there  results,  at  last, 
A  glorious  constitution,  and  a  grand 
Totality  of  nothings ;  —  as  we  see.  — 

[Soldiers  pass  ;  Music,  etc. 
Man  is  a  military  animal, 
Glories  in  gunpowder,  and  loves  parade  ; 
Prefers  them  to  all  things. 

Festus.  Of  recipes, 

Enough  !     Life  's  but  a  sword's  length,  at  the  best. 
Lucifer.     War,   war,  still  war !   from  age  to 

age,  old  Time 
Hath  washed   his  hands   in   the   heart's  blood  of 

Earth. 
Festus.     Yet  fields   of  death!   ye  are  earth's 

purest  pride ; 
For  what  is  life  to  freedom  ?     War  must  be 
While  men  are  what  they  are  ;  while  they  have  bad 
Passions  to  be  roused  up  ;  while  ruled  by  men  ; 
While  all  the  powers  and  treasures  of  a  land 
Are  at  the  beck  of  the  ambitious  crowd  ; 
While  injuries  can  be  inflicted,  or 
Insults  be  offered ;  yea,  while  rights  are  worth 
Maintaining,  freedom  keeping,  or  life  having, 
So  long  the  sword  shall  shine  ;  so  long  shall  war 
Continue,  and  the  need  for  war  remain. 
Lucifer.     And  yet  all  war  shall  cease. 
Festus.  It  must  and  shall. 

Some  news  seems  stirring ;  what,  I  know  not  yet. 
Lucifer.     Nor  I.     I  heard  that  one  of  Saturn's 

moons 
Had  flown  upon  his  face  and  blinded  him. 
*T  was  also  said,  in  circles  I  frequent 
At  times,  his  outer  ring  was  falling  off. 
If  I  should  find,  I  '11  keep  it.     It  might  fit 
A  little  finger  such  as  mine,  I  think. 
Poor  Saturn  !  much  I  doubt  he  is  breaking  up. 
But  for  these  news,  I  know  not  what  they  be. 
Some  one  perhaps  has  lit  on  a  new  vein 


148  FESTUS. 

Of  stars  in  Heaven :  or  cracked  one  with  his  teeth, 
To  look  inside  it,  or  made  out  at  last 
The  circulation  of  the  light ;  or  what 
Think'st  thou  ? 

Festus.  I  know  not.     Ask  ! 

Lucifer.  Sir,  what's  the  news  ? 

Passer-by.     The  news  are  good  news,  being 
none  at  all. 

Lucifer.     Your  goodness,  Sir,  I  deem  of  like 
extent. 
We  heard  the  great  Bear  was  confined  of  twins. 

Stranger.   'T  is  not  unlikely  stars  do  propagate. 

Festus.     And  so  much  for  civility  and  news. 
This  city  is  one  of  the  world's  social  poles, 
Round  which  events  revolve  :  here,  dial-like, 
Time  makes  no  movement  but  is  registered. 

Lucifer.     Yon  gaudy  equipage !  hast  ever  seen 
A  drowning  dragon-fly  floating  down  a  brook, 
Topping  the  sunny  ripples  as  they  rise, 
Till  in  some  ambushed  eddy  it  is  sucked  down 
By  something  underneath.     Thus  with  the  rich  ;  — 
Their  gilding  makes  their  death  conspicuous. 

Festus.     Some  men  are  nobly  rich,  some  nobly 
poor, 
Borne  the  reverse.     Bank  makes  no  difference. 

Lucifer.     The   poor  may   die  in   swarms  un- 
heeded.    They 
But  swell  the  mass  of  columned  ciphers.     Oh, 
5Te  poor,  ye  wretched,  ye  bowed  down  by  woe ! 
Thank  God  for  something,  though  it  were  but  this. 
He  fire,  ye  ashes ! 

Festus.  Thou  art  surely  mad. 

Lucifer.     I  meant  to  moralize.     I  cannot  see 
A  crowd,  and  not  think  on  the  fate  of  man  — 
Clinging  to  error  as  a  dormant  bat 
To  a  dead  bough.     Well,  'tis  his  own  affair. 

Festus.     All  homilies  on  the  sorts  and  lot  of 
men 
Are  vain  and  wearisome.    I  want  to  know 


FESTUS.  149 

No  more  of  human  nature.     As  it  is, 
I  honor  it  and  hate  it.     Let  that  do. 

Lucifer.     Here  is  a  statue  to  some  mighty  man 
Who  beat  his  name  on  the  drum  of  the  world's  ear 
Till  it  was  stupefied,  and,  I  suppose, 
Not  knowing  what  it  was  about,  reared  up 
This  marble  mockery  of  mortality, 
Which  shall  outlive  the  memory  of  the  man 
And  all  like  him  who  water  earth  with  blood, 
And  sow  with  bones,  or  any  good  he  did, 
As  eagles  outlive  gnats.     But  never  mind  ! 
Why  carp  at  insect  sins,  or  crumb-like  crimes  ? 
The  world,  the  great  imposture,  still  succeeds ; 
Still,  in  Titanic  immortality, 
Writhes  'neath  the  burning  mountain  of  its  sins. 

Festus.     There's  an.  old  adage  about  sin  and 
some  one. 
The  world  is  not  exactly  what  I  thought  it, 
But  pretty  nearly  so ;  and  after  all, 
*Tis  not  so  bad  as  good  men  make  it  out, 
Nor  such  a  hopeless  wretch. 

Lucifer.  For  all  the  world 

Not  I  would  slander  it.     Dear  world,  thou  art 
Of  all  things  under  Heaven  by  me  most  loved, 
The  most  consistent,  the  least  fallible. 
Believe  me  ever  thine  affectionate 
Lucifer.     P.  S.  Sweet,  remember  me  ! 

Festus.     Wilt  go  to  the  cathedral  ? 

Lucifer.  No,  indeed ; 

I  have  just  confessed. 

Festus.  Well,  to  the  concert,  then  ? 

Lucifer.     Some  fifteen  hundred  thousand  mil* 
lion  years 
Have  passed  since  last  I  heard  a  chorus. 

Festus.  Good ! 

Lucifer.    In  sooth,  I  cannot  calculate  the  time*. 
There  are  no  eras  in  Eternity. 
No  ages.     Time  is  as  the  body,  and 
Eternity  the  spirit  of  existence. 


150  FESTUS. 

Festus.     That  would  I  learn  and  prove. 

Lucifer.  The  finite  soul 

Can  never  learn  the  Infinite,  nor  be 
Informed  by  it,  unaided. 

Festus.  Be  it  so. 

What  shall  we  do  ? 

Lucifer.  I  put  myself  in  your  hands. 

Festus.     Wilt  go  on  'Change  ? 

Lucifer.  I  rarely  speculate. 

Steady  receipts  are  mostly  to  my  taste. 
Besides,  I  spurn  the  system.     Take  my  arm. 

Festus.    But  something  must  be  done  to  pass 
the  time. 

Lucifer.     True ;  let  us  pass,  then,  all  time. 

Festus.  I  shall  be 

Most  happy  ;  only  show  me  how. 

Lucifer.  Why,  thus. 

I  have  the  power  to  make  thy  spirit  free 
Of  its  poor  frame  of  flesh,  yet  not  by  death,  — 
And  reunite  them  afterwards  !     Wilt  thou 
Intrust  thyself  to  me  ? 

Festus.  In  God  I  trust, 

And  in  His  word  of  safety.     Have  thy  will. 
Where  shall  it  be  effected  ? 

Lucifer.  Here  and  now. 

Recline  thou  calmly  on  yon  marble  slab, 
As  though  asleep.     The  world  will  miss  thee  not ; 
Its  complement  is  perfect.     I  will  mind 
That  no  impertinent  meddler  troubles  there 
Thy  tranced  frame.     The  brain  shall  cease  its  life- 
Engrossing  business,  and  the  living  blood, 
The  wine  of  life  which  maketh  drunk  the  soul, 
Sleep  in  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  heart. 
Three  steps  the  sun  hath  taken  from  his  throne, 
Already,  downwards,  and  ere  he  hath  gone, 
Who  calmeth  tempests  with  his  mighty  light, 
We  will  return ;  and  till  then  the  bright  rain 
Of  yonder  fountain  fails  not. 


FESTUS.  151 

Festus.  Thus  be  it ! 

Come !  we  are  wasting  moments  here  that  now 
Belong,  of  right,  to  immortality, 
And  to  another  world. 

Lucifee.  Prepare !  — 

Festus.  And  thou  ? 

Lucifer.    I  vanish  altogether. 

Festus.  Excellent ! 

Lucifer.     Body  and  spirit  part !  — 


Scene  —  Air. 
Lucifer  and  Festus. 

Festus.    Where,  where  am  I  ? 

Lucifer.     We  are  in  space  and  time,  just  as  we 
were 
Some  half  a  second  since ;  where  wouldst  thou  be  ? 

Festus.     I  would  be  in  Eternity  and  Heaven ; 
The  spirit  and  the  blessed  spirit,  of 
Existence. 

Lucifer.     And  thou  shalt  be,  and  shalt  pass 
All  secondary  nature ;  all  the  rules 
And  the  results  of  time  :  upon  thy  spirit 
These  things  shall  act  no  more ;  their  hands  shall  be 
Withered  upon  thee,  as  the  ray  of  life 
Returns  to  that  it  came  from :  they  shall  cease 
In  thee,  like  lightning  in  the  deadening  sea. 
But  not  now ;  we  have  worlds  to  go  through,  first. 
When  spirit  hath  deposited  its  earth, 
And  brightly,  freely  flows,  self-purified 
In  its  own  action,  acted  on  by  God, 
It  holds  the  starry  transcript  of  the  skies 
Booklike  within  its  bosom,  evermore. 
But  thine  even  now,  exhausted,  not  exhaled, 
Bears  the  design  of  earthly  discontent, 
Not  sacred  satisfaction.     Unto  him 
Whose  soul  is  saved,  all  things  are  clear  as  stars, 
And,  to  the  chosen,  safety  :  —  to  none  else. 


152  FESTUS. 

Nor  cold  insurgent  heart,  nor  menial  mind 
Can  compass  this :  it  is  the  way  of  God : 
The  starry  path  of  Heaven  which  none  can  tread 
But  spirits  high  as  Heaven,  which  He  hath  raised ; 
Who  were  of  Him  before  all  worlds,  and  are 
Beloved  and  saved  for  ever  while  they  live. 
Thou  of  the  world  art  yet,  with  motives,  means, 
And  ends  as  others. 

Festus.  I  will  no  more  of  it. 

Lucifer.     Oh,  dream  it  not !     Thou  knowest 
not  the  depth 
Of  nature's  dark  abyss,  thyself,  nor  God. 
Light  over-strong,  and  darkness  over-long, 
Blind  equally  the  eye.     Thou  mayst  yet  rise 
And  fall  as  often  as  the  sea. 

Festus.  How  comes  it, 

Being  a  spirit,  that  I  see  not  all 
As  spirit  should  ? 

Lucifer.  Thou  lackest  life  and  death. 

The  life  of  Heaven  and  the  death  of  earth. 
Then  wouldst  thou  see  in  harmony  with  God, 
Creation's  strife. 

Festus.        Death  alters  not  the  spirit ! 

Lucifer.    Death  must  be  undergone  ere  under- 
stood, 
One  world  is  as  another.     Rest  we  here  !  — 


Scene  —  Another  and  a  better  World. 

Festus  and  Lucifer. 

Festus.     What  a  sweet  world !     Which  is  this, 

Lucifer  ? 
Lucifer.     This  is  the  star  of  evening  and  of 

beauty. 
Festus.     Otherwise  Venus,     I  Avill  stay  here. 
Lucifer.  Nay : 

It  is  but  a  visit. 


FESTUS.  153 

Festus.  Let  us  look  about  us. 

It  is  Heaven,  it  must  be ;  aught  so  beautiful 
Must,  I  am  sure,  have  feeling.    Cannot  worlds  live  ? 
Least  things  have  life.     Why  not  the  greatest,  too  ? 
An  atom  is  a  world,  a  world  an  atom 
Seen  relatively :  Death  an  act  of  Life. 
Lucifer.     This  is  a  world  where  every  loveliest 

thing 
Lasts  longest ;  where  decay  lifts  never  head 
Above  the  grossest  forms,  and  matter  here 
Is  all  transparent  substance ;  the  flower  fades  not, 
The  beautiful  die  never,  here :  Death  lies 
A  dreaming  —  he  has  nought  to  do  —  the  babe 
Plays  with  his  darts.     Nought  dies  but  what  should 

die. 
Here  are  no  earthquakes,  storms,  nor  plagues ;  no 

Hell 
At  heart ;  no  floating  flood  on  high.     The  soil 
Is  ever  fresh  and  fragrant  as  a  rose  — 
The  skies,  like  one  wide  rainbow,  stand  on  gold  — 
The  clouds  are  light  as  rose  leaves  —  and  the  dew, 
'Tis  of  the  tears  which  stars  weep,  sweet  with  joy— 
The  air  is  softer  than  a  loved  one's  sigh  — 
The  ground  is  glowing  with  all  priceless  ore, 
And  glistening  with  gems  like  a  bride's  bosom  — 
The  trees  have  silver  stems  and  emerald  leaves  — 
The  fountains  bubble  nectar  —  and  the  hills 
Are  half  alive  with  light.     Yet  it  is  not  Heaven. 
Festus.     Oh,  how  this  world  should  pity  man's: 

I  love 
To  walk  earth's  woods  when  the  storm  bends  his 

bow, 
And  volleys  all  his  arrows  off  at  once ; 
And  when  the  dead  brown  branch  comes  crashing 

close 
To  my  feet,  to  tread  it  down,  because  I  feel 
Decay  my  foe  :  and  not  to  triumph 's  worse 
Than  not  to  win.     It  is  wrong  to  think  on  earth ; 
But  terror  hath  a  beauty  even  as  mildness ; 


154  FESTUS. 

And  I  have  felt  more  pleasure  far  on  earth ; 

When,  like  a  lion  or  a  day  of  battle, 

The  storm  rose,  roared,  shook  out  his  shaggy  mane, 

And  leaped  abroad  on  the  world,  and  lay  down  red 

Licking  himself  to  sleep  as  it  got  light ; 

And  in  the  cataract-like  tread  of  a  crowd, 

And  its  irresistible  rush,  flooding  the  green 

As  though  it  came  to  doom,  than  e'er  I  can 

Feel  in  his  faery  orb  of  shade  and  shine. 

I  love  earth ! 

Lucifer.        Thou  art  mad  to  dote  on  earth 
When  with  this  sphere  of  beauty. 

Festus.  It  is  the  blush 

Of  being ;  surely,  too,  a  maiden  world, 
Unmarred  by  thee.     Touch  it  not,  Lucifer ! 

Lucifer.     It  is  too  bright  to  tarnish. 

Festus.  Didst  thou  fail  ? 

Lucifer.     I  cannot  fail.     With  me  success  is 
nature. 
I  am  the  cause,  means,  consequence  of  ill. 
Thou  canst  not  yet  enjoy  a  sensuous  world  — 
Refined  though  ne'er  so  little  o'er  thine  own, 
And  yet  wouldst  enter  Heaven.     Valhalla's  halls, 
And  sculls  o'erbrimmed  with  mead,  Elysian  plains  — 
Eden,  where  life  was  toilless,  and  gave  man 
All  things  to  live  with,  nothing  to  live  for ;  — 
The  Moslem's  bowel's  of  love,  and  streams  of  wine, 
And  palaces  of  purest  adamant, 
Where  dark-eyed  houris,  with  their  young  white 

arms, 
The  ever  virgin,  woo  and  welcome  ye,  — 
The  Chaldee's  orbs  of  gold,  where  dwells  the  pri- 
mal Light, 
Were  all  too  pure  for  thee ;  yet  shalt  thou  be 
Surely  in  Heaven,  ere  Death  unlock  the  heart. 
I  said  that  I  would  show  thee  marvels  here  ; 
For  here  dwell  many  angels  —  many  souls 
Who  have  run  pure  through  earth,  or  been  made 
pure 


FESTUS.  155 

By  their  salvation  since.     It  is  a  mart 

Where  all  the  holy  spirits  of  the  world 

Perform  sweet  interchange,  and  purchase  truth 

With  truth,  and  love  with  love.     Hither  came  He, 

The  Son  —  the  Saviour  of  the  universe ; 

Not  in  the  stable-state  He  went  to  earth  — 

A  servant  unto  slaves ;  but  as  a  God, 

Carrying  His  kingdom  with  Him,  and  His  Heaven. 

Festus.   Lo,  here  are  spirits !  and  all  seem  to  love 
Each  other. 

Lucifer.     He  hath  only  half  a  heart 
Who  loves  not  all. 

Festus.  Speak  for  me  to  some  angel. 

See,  here  is  one,  a  very  soul  of  beauty : 
It  is  the  muse.  I  know  her  by  the  lyre 
Hung  on  her  arm,  and  eye  like  fount  of  fire. 

Muse.     Mortal,  approach !  I  am  the  holy  Muse, 
Whom  all  the  great  and  bright  of  spirit  choose  — 
'T  is  I  who  breathe  my  soul  into  the  lips 
Of  those  great  lights  whom  death  nor  time  eclipse  : 
*T  is  I  who  wing  the  loving  heart  with  song, 
And  set  its  sighs  to  music  on  the  tongue : 
It  is  I  who  watch,  and,  with  sweet  dreams,  reward 
The  starry  slumbers  of  the  youthful  bard ; 
For  I  love  every  thing  that  is  sweet  and  bright. 
And  but  this  morn,  with  the  first  wink  of  light 
A  sunbeam  left  the  sun,  and,  as  it  sped, 
I  followed,  watched,  and  listened  what  it  said : 
Wherefore,  with  all  this  brightness  am  I  given 
From  sun  to  earth  ?     Am  I  not  fit  for  Heaven  ? 
From  God  I  came  Oi<ce ;  and,  though  worlds  have 

passed, 
Ages,  and  dooms,  yet  I  am  light  to  the  last. 
Whatever  God  hath  once  bent  to  His  will 
Is  sacred ;  so  the  world 's  to  be  loved  still. 
What  of  this  swift,  this  bright,  but  downward  being; 
Too  burning  to  be  borne  —  too  brief  for  seeing  ? 
What  is  my  aim  —  mine  end  ?     I  would  not  die 
In  dust,  or  water,  or  an  idiot's  eye : 


156  FESTUS. 

I  would  not  cease  in  blood,  nor  end  in  fire, 

Nor  light  the  loveless  to  their  low  desire  : 

No ;  let  me  perish  on  the  poet's  page, 

Where  he  kisses  from  his  beauty's  brow  all  age ; 

Spelling  it  fair  for  aye,  and  wrinkle  scorning, 

As  when  first  that  brow  brake  on  him  like  a  morning. 

But  yet  I  cannot  quit  this  line  I  tread, 

Though  it  lead  and  leave  me  to  the  eyeless  dead  : 

It  is  mine  errand  :  'tis  for  this  I  come, 

And  live,  and  die,  and  go  down  to  my  doom. 

This  is  my  fate  —  right  and  bright  to  speed  on. 

God  is  His  own  God:  fate  and  fall  are  one. 

Straight  from  the  sun  I  go,  like  life  from  God, 

Which  hits,  now  on  a  heaven,  now  on  a  clod. 

But,  spite  of  all,  the  world's  air  warps  our  way, 

And  crops  the  roses  off  the  cheek  of  day ; 

As  somti  I'cJse  fricii  1,  who  holds  our  fall  in  trust, 

Oils  our  decline,  and  hands  us  to  the  dust. 

Where  are  the  sunbeams  gone  of  the  young  green 

earth  ? 
Search  dust  and  night :  our  death  makes  clear  our 

birth  — 
It  said  —  and  saw  earth ;  and  one  moment  more 
Fell  bright  beside  a  vine-shadowed  cottage  door : 
In  it  came  —  glanced  upon  a  glowing  page, 
Where,  youth  forestalling  and  foreshortening  age  — 
Weak  with  the  work  of  thought,  a  boyish  bard, 
Sate  suing  night  and  stars  for  his  reward. 
The  sunbeam  swerved  and  grew,  a  breathing  dim, 
For  the  first  time,  as  it  lit  and  looked  on  him : 
His  forehead  faded  —  pale  h'o  lip  and  dry  — 
Hollow  his  cheek  —  and  fever  fed  his  eye. 
Clouds  lay  about  his  brain,  as  on  a  hill, 
Quick  with  the  thunder  thought,  and  lightning  will. 
His  clenched  hand  shook  from  its  more  than  mid* 

night  clasp, 
Till  his  pen  fluttered  like  a  winged  asp, 
Save  that  no  deadly  poison  blacked  its  lips : 
'Twas  Ins  to  life-enlighten,  not  eclipse ; 


FESTUS.  157 

Nor  would  he  shade  one  atom  of  another, 

To  have  a  sun  his  slave,  a  god  his  brother. 

The  young  moon  laid  her  down  as  one  who  dies, 

Knowing  that  death  ean  be  no  sacrifice, 

For  that  the  sun,  her  god,  through  nature's  night 

Shall  make  her  bosom  to  grow  great  with  light. 

Still  he  sate,  though  Ins  lamp  sunk ;  and  he  strained 

His  eyes  to  work  the  nightness  which  remained. 

Vain  pain  !  he  could  not  make  the  light  he  wanted, 

And  soon  thought's  wizard  ring  gets  disenchanted. 

When  earth  was  dayed  —  was  morrowed  —  the  first 

ray 
Perched  on  his  pen,  and  diamonded  its  way ;  — 
The  sunray  that  I  watched  ;  which,  proud  to  mark 
The  line  it  loved  as  deathless,  there  died  dark « — 
Died  in  the  only  path  it  would  have  trod, 
Were  there  as  many  ways  as  worlds  to  God,  — 
There,  in  the  eye  of  God  again  to  burn, 
As  all  man's  glory  unto  God's  must  turn. 
And  so  may  sunbeams  ever  guide  his  pen, 
And  God  his  heart,  who  lights  the  morn  of  men ; 
For  this  life  is  but  Being's  first  faint  ray ; 
And  sun  on  sun,  and  heaven  on  heaven,  make  up 

God's  day. 
And  were  there  suns  in  day  as  stars  in  night, 
They  would  show  but  like  one  ray  from  out  his  full- 
sphered  light ; 
As  but  one  momentary  gleam  would  fly ; 
Or,  as  years,  the  arrows  of  eternity. 
Festus.     Poets   are   all  who  love  —  who  feel 
great  truths  — 
And  tell  them ;  and  the  truth  of  truths  is  love. 
There  was  a  time  —  oh,  I  remember  well ! 
When,  like  a  sea-shell  with  its  seaborn  strain, 
My  soul  aye  rang  with  music  of  the  lyre  ; 
And  my  heart  shed  its  lore  as  leaves  their  dew  — 
A  honey  dew,  and  throve  on  what  it  shed. 
All  things  I  loved ;  but  song  I  loved  in  chief. 
Imagination  is  the  air  of  mind ; 


158  FESTUS. 

Judgment  its  earth,  and  memory  its  main ; 
Passion  its  fire.     I  was  at  home  in  Heaven : 
Swiftlike  I  lived  above :  once  touching  earth, 
The  meanest  thing  might  master  me :  long  wing3 
But  baffled.     Still  and  still  I  harped  on  song. 
Oh  !  to  create  within  the  mind  is  bliss  ; 
And,  shaping  forth  the  lofty  thought,  or  lovely, 
We   seek   not,   need   not  Heaven :  and  when  the 

thought  — 
Cloudy  and  shapeless,  first  forms  on  the  mind, 
Slow  darkening  into  some  gigantic  make, 
How  the  heart  shakes  with  pride  and  fear,  as  heaven 
Quakes  under  its  own  thunder :  or  as  might, 
Of  old,  the  mortal  mother  of  a  god, 
When  first  she  saw  him  lessening  up  the  skies. 
And  I  began  the  toil  divine  of  verse, 
Which  like  a  burning-bush,  doth  guest  a  god. 
But  this  was  only  wing-flapping  —  not  flight ; 
The  pawing  of  the  courser  ere  he  win ; 
Till,  by  degrees,  from  wrestling  with  my  soul, 
I  gathered  strength  to  keep  the  fleet  thoughts  fast, 
And  made  them  bless  me.     Yes,  there  was  a  time 
When  tomes  of  ancient  song  held  eye  and  heart  — 
Were  the  sole  lore  I  recked  of:  the  great  bards 
Of  Greece,  of  Rome,  and  mine  own  master  land, 
And  they  who  in  the  holy  book  are  deathless,  — 
Men  who  have  vulgarized  sublimity, 
And  brought  up  truth  for  the  nations ;  parted  it, 
As  soldiers  lotted  once  the  garb  of  God,  — 
Men  who  have  forged  gods  —  uttered  —  made  them 

pass : 
In  whose  words,  to  be  read  with  many  a  heaving 
Of  the  heart,  is  a  power,  like  wind  in  rain  — 
Sons  of  the  sons  of  God,  who,  in  olden  days, 
Pid  leave  their  passionless  Heaven  for  earth  and 

woman, 
Brought  an  immortal  to  a  mortal  breast ; 
And,  like  a  rainbow  clasping  the  sweet  earth, 
And  melting  in  the  covenant  of  love, 


FESTUS.  159 

Left  here  a  bright  precipitate  of  soul, 
Which  lives  for  ever  through  the  lines  of  men, 
Flashing,  by  fits,  like  fire  from  an  enemy's  front  — 
Whose  thoughts  like  bars  of  sunshine  in  shut  rooms. 
Mid  gloom,  all  glory,  win  the  world  to  light  — 
Who  make  their  very  follies  like  their  souls ; 
And,  like  the  young  moon  with  a  ragged  edge, 
Still,  in  their  imperfection,  beautiful  — 
Whose  weaknesses  are  lovely  as  their  strengths, 
Like  the  white  nebulous  matter  between  stars, 
Which,  if  not  light,  at  least  is  likest  light,  — 
Men  whom  we  build  our  love  round  like  an  arch 
Of  triumph,  as  they  pass  us  on  their  way 
To  glory  and  to  immortality  ; 
Men  whose  great  thoughts  possess  us  like  a  passion 
Through  every  limb  and  the  whole  heart;  whos* 

words 
Haunt  us  as  eagles  haunt  the  mountain  air ; 
Thoughts   which   command   all   coming  times  and 

minds, 
As  from  a  tower  a  warden,  —  fix  themselves 
Deep  in  the  heart  as  meteor  stones  in  earth, 
Dropped  from  some  higher  sphere;   the  words  of 

gods, 
And  fragments  of  the  undeemed  tongues  of  Heaver* 
Men  who  walk  up  to  fame  as  to  a  friend 
Or  their  own  house,  which  from  the  wrongful  heir 
They  have  wrested,  from  the  world's  hard  hand  and 

gripe,— 
Men  who,  like  Death,  all  bone,  but  all  unarmed, 
Have  ta'en  the  giant  world  by  the  throat,  and  thrown 

him; 
And  made  him  swear  to  maintain  their  name  and 

fame 
At  peril  of  his  life  —  who  shed  great  thoughts 
As  easily  as  an  oak  looseneth  its  golden  leaves 
In  a  kindly  largess  to  the  soil  it  grew  on  — 
Whose  rich  dark  ivy  thoughts,  sunned  o'er  with  love, 
Flourish  around  the  deathless  stems  of  their  names  — - 


1G0  FESTUS. 

Whose  names  are  ever  on  the  world's  broad  tongue, 

Like  sound  upon  the  falling  of  a  force  — 

Whose  words,  if  winged,  are  with  angels'  wings  — 

Who  play  upon  the  heart  as  on  a  harp, 

And  make  our  eyes  bright  as  we  speak  of  them  — 

Whose   hearts  have   a  look   southwards,  and   are 

open 
To  the  whole  noon  of  nature,  —  these  I  have  waked 
And  wept  o'er,  night  by  night ;  oft  pondering  thus : 
Homer  is  gone ;  and  where  is  Jove  ?  and  where 
The  rival  cities  seven  ?     His  song  outlives 
Time,  tower,  and  god  —  all  that  then   was  save 

Heaven. 
Muse.     Yea,  but  the  poor  perfections  of  thine 

earth 
Shall  be  as  little  as  nothing  to  thee  here. 

Festus.    God  must  be  happy,  who  aye  makes ; 

and  since 
Mind's  first  of  things,  who  makes  from  mind  is  blest 
O'er  men.    Thus  saith  the  bard  to  his  work:  —  I  am 
Thy  god,  and  bid  thee  live  as  my  God  me : 
I  live  or  die  with  thee,  soul  of  my  soul ! 
Thou  cam'st  and  went'st,  sunlike,  from  morn  to  eve : 
And  smiledst  fire  upon  my  heaving  heart, 
Like  the  sun  in  the  sea,  till  it  arose 
And  dashed  about  its  house  all  might  and  mirth, 
Like  ocean's  tongue  in  Staffa's  stormy  cave. 
Thou  art  a  weakly  reed  to  lean  upon  ; 
But,  like  that  reed  the  false  one  filched  from  Heaven, 
Full  of  immortal  fire  —  immortal  as 
The  breath  of  God's  lips  —  every  breath"  a  soul. 
Muse.   Mortal !  the  muse  is  with  thee :  leave  her 

not. 
.  Festus.    Once  my  ambition  to  another  end 
Stirred,  stretched  itself,  but  slept  again.     I  rose 
And  dashed  on  earth  the  harp,  mine  other  heart, 
Which,  ringing,  brake ;  its  discord  ruinous 
Harmony  still ;  and  coldly  I  rejoiced 
No  other  joy  I  had,  wormlike,  to  feed 


FESTUS.  161 

Upon  my  ripe  resolve.     It  might  not  be : 
The  more  I  strove  against,  the  more  I  loved  it. 

Lucifer.    Come,  let  us  walk  along.     So  say  fare- 
well. 

Festus.   I  will  not. 

Muse.  No;  my  greeting  is  forever. 

Lucifer.   Well,  well,  come  on  ! 

Festus.  Oh !  show  me  that  sweet  soul 

Thou  brought  'st  to  me  the  first  night  that  we  met. 
She  must  be  here,  where  all  are  good  and  fair : 
And  thou  didst  promise  me. 

Lucifer.  Is  that  not  she 

Walking  alone,  up-looking  to  thine  earth  ? 
For,  lo !  it  shineth  through  the  mid-day  air. 

Festus.  It  is !  it  is  ! 

Lucifer.  Well,  I  will  come  again. 

[  Goes. 

Festus.   Knowest  thou^me,  mine  own  immortal 
love  ? 
How  shall  I  call  thee  ?  Say,  what  mayest  thou  be 

Angela.  I  am  a  spirit,  Festus ;  and  I  love 
Thy  spirit,  and  shall  love,  when  once  like  mine, 
More  than  we  ever  did  or  can  even  now. 
Pure  spirits  are  of  Heaven,  all  heavenly. 
Yet  marvel  not  to  meet  me  in  this  guise, 
All  radiant  like  a  diamond  as  it  is. 
We  wander  in  what  way  we  will  through  all 
Or  any  of  these  worlds,  and  wheresoe'er 
We  are,  there  Heaven  is,  here,  and  there  too,  God. 

Festus.   Thou  dost  remember  me  ? 

Angela.  Ay,  every  thought 

And  look  of  love  which  thou  hast  lent  to  me, 
Comes  daily  through  my  memory  as  stars 
Wear  through  the  dark. 

Festus.  And  thou  art  happy,  love  ? 

Angela.  Yes :  I  am  happy  when  I  can  do  good. 

Festus.  *To  be  good  is  to  do  good.     Who  dwell 
here  ? 
Are  they  all  deathless  —  happy  ? 
11 


162  FESTDS. 

Angela.  All  are  not : 

Some  err,  though  rarely  —  slightly.     Spirits  sin 
Only  in  thought ;  and  they  are  of  a  race 
Higher  than  thine  —  have  fewer  wants  and  less 
Temptations  —  many  more  joys  —  greater  powers. 
They  need  no  civil  sway  :  each  rules  himself — 
Obeys  himself:  all  live,  too,  as  they  choose, 
And  they  choose  nought  but  good.    They  who  have 

come 
From  earth,  or  other  orb,  use  the  same  powers, 
Passions,  and  purposes,  they  had  e'er  death ; 
Although  enlarged  and  freed,  to  nobler  ends, 
With  better  means.     Here  the  hard  warrior  whets 
The  sword  of  truth,  and  steels  his  soul  against  sin. 
The  fierce  and  lawless  wills  which  trooped  it  over 
His  breast  —  the  speared  desires  that  overran 
The  fairest  fields  of  virtue,  sleep  and  lie 
Like  a  slain  host  'neath  snow  ;  he  dyes  his  hands 
Deep  in  the  blood  of  evil  passions.     Mind  ! 
There  is  no  passion  evil  in  itself; 
In  Heaven  we  shall  enjoy  all  to  right  ends. 
There  sit  the  perfect  women,  perfect  men ;  — « 
Minds  which  control  themselves,  hearts  which  in- 
dulge 
Designs  of  wondrous  goodness,  but  so  far 
Only,  as  soul  extolled  to  bliss  and  power 
Most  high,  sees  fit  for  each,  divinely.     Here, 
The  statesman  makes  new  laws  for  growing  worlds, 
Through  their  forefated  ages.     Here,  the  sage 
Masters  all  mysteries,  more  and  more,  from  day 
To  day,  watching  the  thoughts  of  men  and  angels 
Through  moral  microscopes ;  or  hails  afar, 
By  some  vast  intellectual  instrument, 
The  mighty  spirits,  good  or  bad,  which  range 
The  space  of  mind ;  some  spreading  death  and  woe 
On  far-ofF  worlds  —  some  great  with  good  and  life. 
And  here  the  poet,  like  that  wall  of  fire 
In  ancient  song,  surrounds  the  universe ; 
Lighting  himself,  where'er  he  soars  or  dives, 


FESTUS.  163 

With  his   own   bright  brain  —  this  is  the   poet's 

heaven. 
Here  he  may  realize  each  form  or  scene 
He  e'er  on  earth  imagined ;  or  bid  dreams 
Stand  fast,  and  faery  palaces  appear. 
Here  he  has  Heaven  to  hear  him ;  to  the  which 
He  sings,  with  manlike  voice  and  song,  the  love 
Which  lent  him  his  whole  strength,  as  is  the  wont 
Of  all  great  spirits  and  good  throughout  the  world. 
Oh !  happiest  of  the  happy  is  the  bard ! 
Here,  too,  some  pluck  the  branch  of  peace  where- 
with 
To  greet  a  suffering  saint,  and  show  his  flood 
Of  woe  hath  sunken :  this  I  love  to  do. 
My  love,  we  shall  be  happy  here. 

Festus.  Shall  I 

Ever  come  here  ? 

Angela.   Thou  mayest.     I  will  pray  for  thee, 
And  watch  thee. 

Festus.   Thou  wilt  have,  then,  need  to  weep. 
This  heart  must  run  its  orbit.     Pardon  thou 
Its  many  sad  deflections.     It  will  return 
To  thee  and  to  the  primal  goal  of  Heaven. 

Angela.    Practise  thy  spirit  to  great  thoughts 
and  things, 
That  thou  mayst  start,  when  here,  from  vantage 

ground, 
We  can  foretell  the  future  of  ourselves, 
And  fateful  only  to  himself  is  each. 

Festus.    I  do  not  fear  to  die;   for,  though  I 
change 
The  mode  of  being,  I  shall  ever  be. 
World  after  world  will  fall  at  my  right  hand ; 
The  glorious  future  be  the  past  despised : 
All  now  that  seemeth  bright  will  soon  seem  dim, 
And  darker  grow,  like  earth,  as  we  approach  it ; 
While  I  shall  stand  upon  yon  heaven  which  now 
Hangs  over  me.     If  aught  can  make  me  seek 
Other  to  be  than  that  lost  soul  I  fear  me, 


164  FESTUS. 

It  is,  that  thou  lovest  me.     Heaven  were  not  Heaven 
Without  thee. 

Lucifer.    I  am  here  now.     Art  thou  ready  ? 
Let  us  go. 

Angela.     Well  —  farewell.    It  makes  me  grieve 
To  bid  a  loved  one  back  to  yon  false  world  — 
To  give  up  even  a  mortal  unto  death. 
Thou  wilt  forget  me  soon,  or  seek  to  do. 

Festus.     When  I  forget  that  the  stars  shine  in 
air  — 
When  I  forget  that  beauty  is  in  stars  — 
When  I  forget  that  love  with  beauty  is  — 
Will  I  forget  thee  :  till  then,  all  thiugs  else. 
Thy  love  to  me  was  perfect  from  the  first, 
Even  as  the  rainbow  in  its  native  skies  : 
It  did  not  grow  :  let  meaner  things  mature. 

Angela.     The  rainbow  dies  in  Heaven,  and  not 
on  earth ; 
But  love  can  never  die ;  from  world  to  world, 
Up  the  high  wheel  of  heaven,  it  lives  for  aye. 
Remember  that  I  wait  thee,  hoping,  here. 
Life  is  the  brief  disunion  of  that  nature 
Which  hath  been  one  and  same  in  Heaven  ere  now, 
And  shall  be  yet  again,  renewed  by  Death. 
Come  to  me  when  thou  diest ! 

Festus.  I  will,  I  will. 

Angela.     Then,  in  each  other's  arms,  we  will 
waft  through  space, 
Spirit  in  spirit,  one  !  or  we  will  dwell 
Among  these  immortal  groves  ;  or  watch  new  worlds, 
As,  like  the  great  thoughts  of  a  Maker-mind, 
They  are  rounded  out  of  chaos  :  and  we  will 
Be  oft  on  earth  with  those  we  love,  and  help  them ; 
For  God  hath  made  it  lawful  for  good  souls 
To  make  souls  good ;  and  saints  to  help  the  saintly* 
That  thou  right  soon  mayst  fold  unto  thy  heart 
The  blissful  consciousness  of  separate 
Oneness  with  God,  in  Him  in  whom  alone 
The  saved  are  deathless^  shall  become,  for  thee, 


FESTUS.  165 

My  earliest,  earnest,  and  most  constant  prayer. 

Oh !  what  is  dear  to  creatures  of  the  earth  ? 

Life,  love,  light,  liberty !     But  dearer  far 

Than  all  —  and  oh  !  an  universe  more  divine  — 

The  gift,  which  God  endows  his  chosen  with, 

Of  His  own  uncreated  glory,  —  His 

Before  all  worlds,  all  ages,  and  reserved 

Till  after  all  for  those  He  loves  and  saves. 

As  when  the  eye  first  views  some  Andean  chain 

Of  shadowy  rolling  mountains,  based  on  air, 

Height  upon  height,  aspiring  to  the  last, 

Even  to  Heaven,  in  sunny  snow  sheen,  up 

Stretching  like  angel's  pinions,  nor  can  tell 

Which  be  the  loftiest  nor  the  loveliest ; 

As  when  an  army,  wakening  with  the  sun, 

Starts  to  its  feet  all  hope,  spear  after  spear 

And  line  on  line  reundulating  light, 

While  night's  dull  watchfires  reek  themselves  away, 

So  feels  the  spirit  when  it  first  receives 

The  bright  and  mountainous  mysteries  of  God, 

Containing  Heaven,  moving  themselves  towards  us, 

In  their  free  greatness,  as  by  ships  at  sea 

Come  icebergs,  pure  and  pointed  as  a  star 

Afar  off  glittering,  of  invisible 

Depth,  and  dissolving  in  the  light  above. 

Festus.     My  prayer  shall  be  that  thy  prayer  be 
fulfilled. 
I  must  to  earth  again.     Farewell,  sweet  soul ! 

Angela.     Farewell !   I  love  thee,  and  will  oft 
be  with  thee.  [love 

Lucifer.   I  like  earth  more  than  this:  I  rather 
A  splendid  failing  than  a  petty  good  ; 
Even  as  the  thunderbolt,   whose  course  is  down- 
wards, 
Is  nobler  far  than  any  fire  which  soars. 

Festus.   I  am  determined  to  be  good  again  — 
Again  ?     When  was  I  otherwise  than  ill  ? 
Does  not  sin  pour  from  my  soul  like  dew  from  earth, 
And,  vaporing  up  before  the  face  of  God, 


166  FESTUS. 

Congregate  there  in  clouds  between  Heaven  and 


me 


? 


What  wonder  that  I  lack  delight  of  life  ? 

For  it  is  thus  —  when  amid  the  world's  delights, 

How  warm  so'er  we  feel  a  moment  among  them  — 

We  find  ourselves,  when  the  hot  blast  hath  blown, 

Prostrate,  and  weak,  and  wretched,  even  as  I  am. 

I  wish  that  I  could  leap  from  off  this  star, 

And  dash  my  soul  to  atoms  like  a  glass. 

Lucifer.    I  have  done  nothing  for  thee  yet 
Thou  shalt 
See  Heaven,  and  Hell,  and  all  the  sights  of  space, 
When'er  thou  choosest. 

Festus.  Not  then  now. 

Lucifer.  Up  !  rise ! 

Festus.    No  ;  I'll  be  good:  and  will  see  none 
of  them. 
Earth  draws  us  like  a  loadstone.     We  are  coming. 


Scene  —  A  Large  Party  and  Entertainment. 
Festus,  Ladies,  and  Others. 

Festus.  My  Helen !  let  us  rest  awhile, 
For  most  I  love  thy  calmer  smile  ; 
We  '11  not  be  missed  from  this  gay  throng, 
They  dance  so  eagerly  and  long ; 
And  were  one  half  to  go  away, 
I'll  bet  the  rest  would  scarce  perceive  it. 

Helen.    With  thee  I  either  go  or  stay, 
Prepared,  the  same,  to  like  or  leave  it. 
These  two,  perhaps,  will  take  our  places. 
They  seem  to  stand  with  longing  faces. 

Festus.   Then  sit  we,  love,  and  sip  with  me, 
And  I  will  teach  thyself  to  thee. 
Thy  nature  is  so  pure  and  fine, 
'T  is  most  like  wine  ; 

Thy  blood,  which  blushes  through  each  vein, 
Rosy  champagne ; 


FESTUS.  167 

And  the  fair  skin  which  o'er  it  grows, 

Bright  as  its  snows. 

Thy  wit,  which  thou  dost  work  so  well, 

Is  like  cool  moselle ; 

Like  madeira,  bright  and  warm, 

Is  thy  smile's  charm ; 

Claret's  glory  hath  thine  eye, 

Or  mine  must  lie  ; 

But  nought  can  like  thy  lips  possess 

Deliciousness ; 

And  now  that  thou'rt  divinely  merry, 

I  '11  kiss  and  call  thee  sparkling  sherry.  [me 

Helen.   I  sometimes  dream  that  thou  wilt  leave 
Without  thy  love,  even  me,  lonely ; 
And  oft  I  think,  though  oft  it  grieve  me, 
That  I  am  not  thy  one  love  only : 
But  I  shall  always  love  thee  till 
This  heart,  like  earth  in  death,  stand  still. 

Festus.     I    love    thee,   and    will  leave    thee 
never, 
Until  my  soul  leave  life  for  ever. 
If  earth  can  from  her  children  run, 
And  leave  the  seasons  —  leave  the  sun,  — 
If  yonder  stars  can  leave  the  sky, 
Bright  truants  from  their  home  in  heaven  — 
Immortals  who  deserve  to  die, 
Were  death  not  too  good  to  be  given,  — 
If  Heaven  can  leave  and  live  from  God, 
And  man  tread  off  his  cradle  clod  — 
If  God  can  leave  the  world  He  sowed, 
Right  in  the  heart  of  space  to  fade  — 
Soul,  earth,  star,  Heaven,  man,  world,  and  God 
May  part  —  not  I  from  thee,  sweet  maid. 
Ah !  see  again  my  favorite  dance, 
See  the  wavelike  line  advance ; 
And  now  in  circles  break, 
Like  raindrops  on  a  lake  : 
Now  it  opens,  now  it  closes, 
Like  a  wreath  dropping  into  roses. 


168  FESTUS. 

Helen.  It  is  a  lovely  scene, 
Fair  as  aught  on  earth  ; 
And  we  feel,  when  it  hath  been, 
At  heart  a  dearth  ; 

As  from  the  breaking  up  of  some  bright  dream  — 
The  failing  of  a  fountain's  spray-topt  stream. 

Wile.   Ladies — .your   leave  —  we'll  choose   a 
Queen 
To  rule  this  fair  and  festive  scene. 

Charles.   And  it  were  best  to  choose  by  lot, 
So  none  can  hold  herself  forgot, 

[They  draw  lots:  it  falls  to  Helen. 

Festus.  I  knew,  my  love,  how  this  would  be  ; 
I  knew  that  Fate  must  favor  thee. 

All.    Lady  fair !  we  throne  thee  Queen  ! 
Be  thy  sway  as  thou  hast  been  — 
Light,  and  lovely,  and  serene. 

Festus.    Here  —  wear  this  wreath  !    No  ruder 
crown 
Should  deck  that  dazzling  brow ; 
Or  ask  yon  halo  from  the  moon  — 
'T  would  well  beseem  thee  now. 
I  crown  thee,  love  ;  I  crown  thee,  love ; 
I  crown  thee  Queen  of  me  ! 
And  oh !  but  I  am  a  happy  land, 
And  a  loyal  land  to  thee. 
I  crown  thee,  love  ;  I  crown  thee,  love  ; 
Thou  art  Queen  in  thine  own  right ! 
Feel !  my  heart  is  as  full  as  a  town  of  joy : 
Look  !  I  've  crowded  mine  eyes  with  light. 
I  crown  thee,  love ;  I  crown  thee,  love  ; 
Thou  art  Queen  by  right  divine ! 
And  thy  love  shall  set  neither  night  nor  day 
O'er  this  subject  heart  of  mine. 
I  crown  thee,  love ;  I  crown  thee,  love  ; 
Thou  art  Queen  by  the  right  of  the  strong  ! 
And  thou  didst  but  win  where  thou  mightst  have 

slain, 
Or  have  bounden  in  thraldom  long. 


FESTUS.  169 

I  crown  thee,  love ;  I  crown  thee,  love ; 

Thou  art  my  Queen  for  aye  ! 

As  the  moon  doth  Queen  the  night,  my  love ; 

As  the  night  doth  crown  the  day ; 

I  crown  thee,  love ;  I  crown  thee,  love ; 

Queen  of  the  brave  and  free  ! 

For  I  'm  brave  to  all  beauty  but  thine,  my  love  ; 

And  free  to  all  beauty  by  thee. 

Helen.    Here  in  this  court  of  pleasure,  blest  to 
reign, 
If  not  the  loveliest,  where  all  are  fair, 
We  still,  one  hour,  our  royalty  retain, 
To  out-queen  all  in  kindness  and  in  care. 
Love,  beauty,  honor,  bravery,  and  wit — - 
Was  ever  Queen  served  by  such  noble  slaves  ? 
The  peerage  of  the  heart  —  for  Heaven's  court  fit : 
We  '11    dream   no    more    that    earth   hath   ills  or 

graves. 
With  mirth,  and  melody,  and  love  we  reign  : 
Begin  we,  then,  our  sweet  and  pleasurous  sway : 
And  here,  though  light,  so  strong  is  beauty's  chain, 
That  none  shall  know  how  blindly  they  obey. 
We  have  but  to  lay  on  one  light  command  — 
That  all  shall  do  the  most  what  best  they  love  ; 
And  Pleasure  hath  her  punishments  at  hand, 
For  all  who  will  not  pleasure's  rule  approve. 
But  no !  there 's  none  of  us  can  disobey, 
Since,  by  our  one  command,  we  free  ye  thus ; 
And,  as  our  powers  must  on  your  pleasures  stay — 
Support  —  and  you  will  reign  along  with  us. 

Festus.     Ha !  Lucifer  !  How  now  ? 

Lucifer.     I  come  in  sooth  to  keep  my  vow. 

Festus.     Thy  vow  ? 

Lucifer.         To  revel  in  earth's  pleasures, 
And  tire  down  mirth  in  her  own  measures. 

Festus.     Go  thy  ways  :  I  shrink  and  tremble 
To  think  how  deep  thou  canst  dissemble ; 
For  who  would  dream  that  in  yon  breast 
The  heart  of  Hell  was  burning  ? 


170  FESTUS. 

Or  deem  that  strange  and  listless  guest 
Some  priceless  spirit  earning  ? 
I  hear,  from  every  footstep,  rise 
A  trampled  spirit's  smothered  cries. 

Charles.     Fest,  engage  fair  Marian's  hand. 

Festus.     Pass  me ;  she  is  free  no  less 
Than  I,  who  by  my  queen  will  stand  — 
May  it  please  her  loveliness ! 

Helen.     Festus,  we  know  the  love,  and  see, 
Which  was  with  Marian  and  thee. 

Festus.     I  will  not  dance  to-night  again, 
Though  bid  by  all  the  Queens  that  reign. 

Helen.     What,  Festus  !  treason  and  disloyalty 
Already  to  our  gentle  royalty  ? 

Festus.    No  —  I  was  wrong  —  but  to  forgive 
Be  thy  sublime  prerogative  ! 

Helen.    Most  amply,  then,  I  pardon  thee ; 
In  proof  whereof,  come,  dance  with  me.    [^4  dance. 

Laurence.   How  sweetly  Marian  sweeps  along ; 
Her  step  is  music,  and  her  voice  is  song. 
Silver  sandalled  foot !  how  blest 
To  bear  the  breathing  heaven  above, 
Which  on  thee,  Atlas-like,  doth  rest, 
And  round  thee  move. 
Ah  !  that  sweet  little  foot ;  I  swear 
I  could  kneel  down  and  kiss  it  there. 
I  should  not  mind  if  she  were  Pope ; 
I  would  change  my  faith. 

Charles.  Works,  too,  we  hope. 

Laurence.     Ah!  smile  on  me  again  with  that 
sweet  smile, 
Which  could  from  Heaven  my  soul  to  thee  beguile 
As  I  mine  eye  would  turn  from  awful  skies 
To  hail  the  child  of  sun  and  storm  arise ; 
Or,  from  eve's  holy  azure,  to  the  star 
Which  beams  and  becks  the  spirit  from  afar ; 
For  fair  as  yon  star-wreath  which  high  doth  shine, 
And  worthy  but  to  deck  a  brow  like  thine ; 
Pure  as  the  light  from  orbs  which  ne'er 


FESTU8.  171 

Hath  blessed  us  yet  in  this  far  sphere ; 
As  eyes  of  seraphs  lift  alone 
Through  ages  on  the  holy  throne ; 
So  bright,  so  fair,  so  free  from  guile, 
And  freshening  to  my  heart  thy  smile ; 
Ay,  passing  all  things  here,  and  all  above, 
To  me,  thy  look  of  beauty,  truth  and  love. 

Harry.     Thy  friend  hath  led  his  lady  out. 

Festus.     He  looks  most  wickedly  devout. 

Fanny.   When  introduced,  he  said  he  knew  her, 
And  had  been  long  devoted  to  her. 

Emma.    Indeed  —  but  he  is  too  gallant, 
And  serves  me  far  more  than  I  want. 
He  vows  that  he  could  worship  me  — 
Why  —  look  !  he  is  now  upon  his  knee  ! 

Lucifer.     I  quaff  to  thee  this  cup  of  wine, 
And  would,  though  men  had  nought  but  brine  — 
E'en  the  brine  of  their  own  tears, 
To  cool  those  lying  lips  of  theirs ; 
And  were  it  all  one  molten  pearl, 
I  would  drain  it  to  thee,  girl ; 
Ay,  though  each  drop  were  worth  of  gold 
Too  many  pieces  to  be  sold ; 
And  though,  for  each  I  drank  to  thee, 
Fate  add  an  age  of  misery : 
For  thou  canst  conjure  up  my  spirit 
To  aught  immortals  may  inherit ; 
To  good  or  evil,  woe  or  weal  — 
To  all  that  fiends  or  angels  feel ; 
And  wert  thou  to  perdition  given, 
I  'd  join  thee  in  the  scorn  of  Heaven  ! 

Emma.     Oh  fie  !  to  only  think  of  such  a  fate ! 

Lucifer.     Better  than  not  to  think  on 't  till  too 
late. 
They  'd  not  believe  me,  Festus,  if  I  told  them, 
That  Hell,  and  all  its  hosts,  this  hour  behold  them. 

Festus.     Scarcely  —  that  Devil  here  again  ! 
But  though  my  heart  burst  in  the  strain, 
I  will  be  happy,  might  and  main ! 


172  FESTUS. 

So  wreathe  my  brow  with  flowers, 

And  pour  me  purple  wine, 

And  make  the  merry  hours 

Dance,  dance,  with  glee  like  thine. 

While  thus  enraptured,  I  and  thou, 

Love  crowns  the  heart,  as  flowers  the  brow. 

The  rosy  garland  twine 

Around  the  noble  bowl, 

Like  laughing  loves  that  shine 

Upon  the  generous  soul ; 

Be  mine,  dear  maid,  the  loves,  and  thou 

Shalt  ever  bosom  them  as  now. 

Then  plunge  the  blushing  wreath 

Deep  in  the  ruddy  wine ; 

As  the  love  of  thee  till  death 

Is  deep  in  heart  of  mine. 

While  both  are  blooming  on  my  brow, 

I  cannot  be  more  blest  than  now. 

Lucifer.     Thou  talk'st  of  hearts,  in  style  to  me, 
quite  fresh. 
The  human  heart 's  about  a  pound  of  flesh. 

Festus.     Forgive  him,  love,  and  aught  he  says. 

Helen.     What  is  that  trickling  down  thy  face  ? 

Festus.     Oh,  love,  that  is  only  wine 
From  the  wreath  which  thou  didst  twine ; 
And,  casting  in  the  bowl,  I  bound, 
For  coolness'  sake,  my  temples  round. 

Helen.     I  thought   'twas   a   thorn   which  was 
tearing  thy  brow ; 
And  if  it  were  only  a  rose-thorn  was  tearing, 
Why,  whether  of  gold  or  of  roses,  as  now, 
A  crown,  if  it  hurt  us,  is  hardly  worth  wearing. 

Lucy.     From  what  fair  maid  hadst  thou  that 
flower  ? 
It  came  not  from  my  wreath  nor  me. 

Charles.     Love  lives  in  thee  as  in  a  flower, 
And  sure  this  must  have  dropped  from  thee  — 
From  thy  lip,  or  from  thy  cheek : 
See,  its  sister  blushes  speak. 


FESTUS.  173 

Nay,  never  harm  the  harmless  rose, 
Though  given  by  a  stranger  maid : 
'T  is  sad  enough  to  feel  that  flower 
Feels  it  must  fade. 
And  trouble  not  the  transient  love, 
Though  by  another's  side  I  sigh ; 
It  is  enough  to  feel  the  flame 
Flicker  and  die. 

And  thou  to  me  art  flame  and  flower 
Of  rosier  body,  brighter  breath  : 
But  softer,  warmer  than  the  truth  — 
As  sleep  than  death. 

Festus.     The  dead  of  night :  earth  seems  but 
seeming  — 
The  soul  seems  but  a  something  dreaming. 
The  bird  is  dreaming,  in  its  nest, 
Of  song,  and  sky,  and  loved  one's  breast ; 
The  lap-dog  dreams,  as  round  he  lies, 
In  moonshine  of  his  mistress'  eyes : 
The  steed  is  dreaming,  in  his  stall, 
Of  one  long  breathless  leap  and  fall : 
The  hawk  hath  dreamt  him  thrice  of  wings 
Wide  as  the  skies  he  may  not  cleave ; 
But  waking,  feels  them  clipt,  and  clings 
Mad  to  the  perch  't  were  mad  to  leave  : 
The  child  is  dreaming  of  its  toys  — 
The  murderer  of  calm  home  joys  ; 
The  weak  are  dreaming  endless  fears  — 
The  proud  of  how  their  pride  appears : 
The  poor  enthusiast  who  dies, 
Of  his  life  dreams  the  sacrifice  — 
Sees,  as  enthusiast  only  can, 
The  truth  that  made  him  more  than  man ; 
And  hears,  once  more,  in  visioned  trance, 
That  voice  commanding  to  advance, 
Where  wealth  is  gained  —  love,  wisdom  won, 
Or  deeds  of  danger  dared  and  done. 
The  mother  dreameth  of  her  child  — 
The  maid  of  him  who  hath  beguiled  — 


174  FESTUS. 

The  youth  of  her  he  loves  too  well ; 
The  good  of  God  —  the  ill  of  Hell,  — 
Who  live  of  death  —  of  life  who  die  — 
The  dead  of  immortality. 
The  earth  is  dreaming  back  her  youth ; 
Hell  never  dreams,  for  woe  is  truth ; 
And  Heaven  is  dreaming  o'er  her  prime, 
Long  ere  the  morning  stars  of  time  ; 
And  dream  of  Heaven  alone  can  I, 
My  lovely  one,  when  thou  art  nigh. 

Helen.     Let  some  one  sing.     Love,  mirth  and 
song, 
The  graces  of  this  life  of  ours, 
Go  ever  hand  in  hand  along, 
And  ask  alike  each  other's  powers. 

Lucy  sings.     For  every  leaf  the  loveliest  flower 
Which  Beauty  sighs  for  from  her  bower  — 
For  every  star  a  drop  of  dew  — 
For  every  sun  a  sky  of  blue  — 
For  every  heart  a  heart  as  true. 

For  every  tear  by  pity  shed 

Upon  a  fellow-sufferer's  head, 

Oh  !  be  a  crown  of  glory  given  ; 

Such  crowns  as  saints  to  gain  have  striven  — 

Such  crowns  as  seraphs  wear  in  Heaven. 

For  all  who  toil  at  honest  fame, 
A  proud,  a  pure,  a  deathless  name ; 
For  all  who  love,  who  loving  bless, 
Be  life  one  long,  kind,  close  caress  — 
Be  life  all  love,  all  happiness. 

Lucifer.     Tell  me   what's  the  chiefest  pleas- 
ure 
In  this  world's  high  heaped  measure  ? 

All.  Power  —  beauty  —  love  —  wealth  —  wine ! 
Lucifer.     All  different  votes ! 


FESTUS.  175 

Fanny.  Come,  Frederic  —  thine  V 

What  may  thy  joy-judgment  be  ? 

Frederic.     I  scarce  know  how  to  answer  thee  ; 

Each,  apart,  too  soon  will  tire  ; 

All  together  slake  desire. 

So  ask  not  of  me  the  one  chief  joy  of  earth, 

For  that  I  'm  unable  to  say  ; 

But  here  is  a  wreath  which  will  lose  its  chief  worth, 

If  ye  pluck  but  one  flower  away. 

Then  these  are  the  joys  that  should  never  dispart — ■ 

The  joys  which  are  dearest  to  me  : 

As  the  song,  and  the  dance,  and  the  laugh  of  the 
heart, 

Thou,  girl,  and  the  goblet  be. 
Eucifer.     Oh,  excellent !  the  truth  is  clear  — 

The  one  opinion,  too,  I  love  to  hear. 
Helen.     Is  this   a    Queen's   fate  —  to  be  left 
alone  ? 
I  wish  another  had  the  throne. 
Festus  !  why  art  thou  not  here, 
Beside  thy  liege  and  lady  dear  ? 

Festus.     My  thoughts  are  happier  oft  than  I, 
For  they  are  ever,  love,  with  thee ; 
And  thine,  I  know,  as  frequent  fly 
O'er  all  that  severs  us,  to  me ; 
Like  rays  of  stars  that  meet  in  space, 
And  mingle  in  a  bright  embrace. 
Never  load  thy  locks  with  flowers, 
For  thy  cheek  hath  a  richer  flush  ; 
And  than  wine,  or  the  sunset  hour, 
Or  the  ripe  yew-berry's  blush. 
Never  braid  thy  brow  with  lights, 
Like  the  sun,  on  its  golden  way 
To  the  neck  and  the  locks  of  night, 
From  the  forehead  fair  of  day. 
Never  star  thy  hand  with  stones, 
For,  for  every  dead  light  there, 
Is  a  living  glory  gone, 
Than  the  brilliant  far  more  fair. 


176  FESTUS. 

Nay,  nay ;  wear  thy  buds,  braids,  gem9 ! 

Let  the  lovely  never  part ; 

Thou  alone  canst  rival  them, 

Or  in  nature,  or  in  art. 

Be  not  sad ;  —  thou  shalt  not  be  : 

Why  wilt  mourn,  love,  when  with  me  ? 

One  tear  that  in  thine  eye  doth  start 

Could  wash  all  purpose  from  my  heart, 

But  that  of  loving  thee  ; 

If  I  could  ever  think  to  wrong 

A  love  so  river-like,  deep,  pure,  and  long. 

Helen.     I  cast  mine  eyes  around,  and  feel 
There  is  a  blessing  wanting ; 
Too  soon  our  hearts  the  truth  reveal, 
That  joy  is  disenchanting. 

Festus.     1  am  a  wizard,  love ;  and  I 
A  new  enchantment  will  supply  ; 
And  the  charm  of  thine  own  smile 
Shall  thine  own  heart  of  grief  beguile. 
Smile  —  I  do  command  thee  rise 
From  the  bright  depths  of  those  eyes ! 
By  the  bloom  wherein  thou  dwellest, 
As  in  a  rose-leaved  nest ; 
By  the  pleasure  which  thou  tellest, 
And  the  bosom  which  thou  swellest, 
I  bid  thee  rise  from  rest ; 
By  the  rapture  which  thou  causest, 
And  the  bliss  while  e'er  thou  pausest, 
Obey  my  high  behest ! 

Helen.     Dread  magician  !     Cease  thy  spell ; 
It  hath  wrought  both  quick  and  well. 

Festus.     Ah !  thou  hast  dissolved  the  charm ! 
Ah  !  thou  hast  outstepped  the  ring  ! 
Who  shall  answer  for  the  harm 
Beauty  on  herself  will  bring  ? 
Come,  I  will  conjure  up  again  that  smile  — 
The  scarce  departed  spirit.     There  it  is ! 
Settling  and  hovering  round  thy  lips  the  while, 
Like  some  bright  angel  o'er  the  gates  of  bliss. 


FESTUS.  177 

And  I  could  sit  and  set  that  rose-bright  smile, 

Until  it  seem  to  grow  immortal  there  — 

A  something  abstract  even  of  all  beauty, 

As  though  'twere  in  the  eye  or  in  the  air. 

Ah  1  never  may  a  heavier  shadow  rest 

Than  thine  own  ringlets'  on  that  brow  so  fair ; 

Nor  sob,  nor  sorrow,  shake  the  perfect  breast 

Which  looks  for  love,  as  doth  for  death  despair. 

And   now  the    smile,   the    sigh,    the    blush,    the 

tear  — 
Lo  !  all  the  elements  of  love  are  here. 
Oh,  weep  not  —  wither  not  the  soul 
Made  saturate  with  bliss ; 
I  would  not  have  one  briny  tear 
Embitter  Beauty's  kiss. 
Nay,  weep  not,  fear  not !  woe  nor  wrath 
Can  touch  a  soul  like  thine, 
More  than  the  lightning's  blinding  path 
May  strike  the  stars  divine. 
Sing,  then,  while  thy  lover  sips, 
And  hear  the  truth  that  wine  discloses ; 
Music  lives  within  thy  lips 
Like  a  nightingale  in  roses. 

Helen  sings.     Oh  !  love  is  like  the  rose, 
And  a  month  it  may  not  see, 
Ere  it  withers  where  it  grows  — 
Rosalie ! 

I  loved  thee  from  afar ; 
Oh !  my  heart  was  lift  to  thee 
Like  a  glass  up  to  a  star  — 
Rosalie ! 

Thine  eye  was  glassed  in  mine 
As  the  moon  is  in  the  sea, 
And  its  shine  was  on  the  brine  — 
Rosalie ! 

12 


178  FESTUS. 

The  rose  hath  lost  its  red, 
And  the  star  is  in  the  sea, 
And  the  briny  tear  is  shed  — 
Rosalie ! 

Festus.    What  the  stars  are  to  the  night,  my 

love, 
What  its  pearls  are  to  the  sea,  — 
What  the  dew  is  to  the  day,  my  love, 
Thy  beauty  is  to  me. 

Helen.    I  am  but  here  the   under-queen  of 

beauty, 
For  yonder  hangs  the  likeness  of  the  goddess  ; 
And  so  to  worship  her  is  our  first  duty. 
The  heavenly  minds  of  old  first  taught  the  heavenly 

bodies 
Were  to  be  worshipped  ;  and  the  idolatry 
Holds  to  this  hour ;  though,  Beauty  !  but  of  thine. 
I  am  thy  priestess,  and  will  worship  thee, 
With  all  this  brave  and  lovely  train  of  mine  ; 
Lo !  we  all  kneel  to  thee  before  thy  pictured  shrine. 
Yes  —  there,  thou  goddess  of  the  heart, 
Immortal  beauty,  there ! 
Thou  glory  of  Jove's  free-love  skies, 
E'en  like  thyself  too  fair, 
Too  bright,  too  sweet  for  mortal  eyes, 
For  earthly  hearts  too  strong ; 
Thy  golden  girdle  lift'st  and  drawest 
The  heavens  and  earth  along. 
Oh  !  thou  art  as  the  cloudless  moon, 
Undimmed  and  unarrayed ; 
No  robe  hast  thou,  no  crown  save  yon  — 
Goddess !  thy  long  locks'  soft  and  sunbright  braid. 
And  there 's  thy  son,  Love  —  beauty's  child  — 
World-known  for  strangest  powers  — 
Boy-god  !  thy  place  is  blest  o'er  all ! 
Smil'st  thou  at  thoughts  of  ours  ? 
And  there,  by  thy  luxurious  side, 
The  Queen  of  Heaven  and  Jove 


FESTUS.  179 

Stands ;  and  the  deep  delirious  draught 
Drinks,  from  thy  looks,  of  love, 
And  lips,  which  oft  have  kissed  away 
The  thunders  from  his  brow 
Who  ruled,  men  say,  the  world  of  worlds, 
As  God  our  God  rules  now. 
And  thou  art  yet  as  great  o'er  this 
As  erst  o'er  olden  sky  ; 
Of  all  Heaven's  darkened  deities 
The  last  live  light  on  high. 
God  after  God  hath  left  thee  lone, 
Which  lived  on  human  breath ; 
When  prayers  were  breathed  to  them  no  more, 
The  false  ones  pined  to  death. 
But  in  the  service  of  young  hearts 
To  loveliness  and  love  ; 
Live  thou  shalt  while  yon  wandering  world 
Named  unto  thee  shall  move. 
No  fabled  dream  art  thou  :  all  god, 
Our  souls  acknowledge  thee  ; 
For  what  would  life  from  love  be  worth, 
Or  love  from  beauty  be  ? 
Come,  universal  beauty,  then, 
Thou  apple  of  God's  eye, 
To  and  through  which  all  things  were  made  — 
Things  deathless  —  things  that  die. 
Oh !  lighten  —  live  before  us  there  — 
Leap  in  yon  lovely  form, 
And  give  a  soul.     She  comes !  it  breathes  — 
So  bright  —  so  sweet  —  so  warm. 
Our  sacrifice  is  over :  let  us  rise  ! 
For  we  have  worshipped  acceptably  here  ; 
And  let  our  glowing  hearts  and  glimmering  eyes, 
O'erstrained  with  gazing  on  thy  light  too  near, 
Prove  that  our  worship,  Goddess,  was  sincere  ! 
Festus.    I  read  that  we  are  answered.     The 
soft  air 
Doubles  its  sweetness  ;  and  the  fainting  flowers, 
Down  hanging  on  the  walls  in  wreaths  so  fair, 


180  FESTUS. 

Bud  forth  afresh,  as  in  their  birth-day  bowers, 
Dew-laden,  as  oppressed  with  love  and  shame, 
The  rose-bud  drops  upon  the  lily's  breast ; 
Brighter  the  wine,  the  lamps  have  softer  flame, 
Thy  kiss  flows  freer  than  the  grape  first  pressed. 

Will.     A  dance,  a  dance  ! 

Helen.  Let  us  remain  ! 

Festus.     We  will  not  tempt  your  sport  again. 

Helen.     Behold  where  Marian  sits  alone, 
The  dance  all  sweeping  round, 
Like  to  some  goddess  hewn  in  stone, 
With  blooming  garlands  bound. 

Festus.     tell  me,  Marian,  what  those  eyes 
Can  discover  in  the  skies  ?  — 
Those   eyes,  that  look,  so  bright,   so   sweet  their 

hue, 
As  they  had  gained  from  gazing  on  that  view, 
The  high  and  starry  beauty  of  their  blue. 

Marian.     For  earth  my  soul  hath  lost  all  love, 
But  Heaven  still  loves  and  watches  o'er  me  ; 
Why  should  I  not,  then,  look  above, 
And  pass,  and  pity  all  before  me  ? 

Festus.     Oh !  if  yon  worlds  that  shine  o'er  this, 
Have  more  of  joy  —  of  passion  less  — 
I  would  not  change  earth's  chequered  bliss 
For  thrice  the  joys  those  orbs  possess  ; 
Which  seem  so  strange  their  nature  is, 
Faint  with  excess  of  happiness. 

Marian.     Thy  heart  with  others  hath  its  rest, 
And  it  shall  wake  with  me  ; 
And  if  within  another  breast 
Thy  heart  hath  made  itself  a  nest, 
Mine  is  no  more  for  thee. 
Heart-breaker,  go  !  I  cannot  choose 
But  love  thee,  and  thy  love  refuse ; 
And  if  my  brow  grow  lined  while  young, 
And  youth  fly  cheated  from  my  cheek, 
'T  is,  that  there  lies  below  my  tongue 
A  word  I  will  not  speak  ; 


FESTUS.  181 

For  I  would  rather  die  than  deem 
Thou  art  not  the  glory  thou  didst  seem. 
But  if  engirt  by  flood  or  fire, 
AVho  would  live  that  could  expire  ? 
"Who  would  not  dream,  and  dreaming  die, 
If  to  wake  were  misery  ? 

Festus.     Whose   woes  are  like  to  my  woes  ? 
What  is  madness  ? 
The  mind,  exalted  to  a  sense  of  ill, 
Soon  sinks  beyond  it  into  utter  sadness, 
And  sees  its  grief  before  it  like  a  hill. 
Oh !  I  have  suffered  till  my  brain  became 
Distinct  with  woe,  as  is  the  skeleton  leaf 
Whose  green  hath  fretted  off  its  fibrous  frame, 
And  bare  to  our  immortality  of  grief. 

Marian.     Like  the    light  line  that    laughter 
leaves 
One  moment  on  a  bright  young  brow ; 
So  truth  is  lost  ere  love  believes 
There  can  be  aught  save  truth  below. 

Festus.   But  as  the  eye  aye  brightlier  beams 
For  every  fall  the  lid  lets  on  it, 
So  oft  the  fond  heart  happier  dreams 
For  the  soft  cheats  love  puts  upon  it. 

Marian.  I  never  dreamed  of  wretchedness ; 
I  thought  to  love  meant  but  to  bless. 

Festus.  It  once  was  bliss  to  me  to  watch 
Thy  passing  smile,  and  sit  and  catch 
The  sweet  contagion  of  thy  breath  — 
For  love  is  catching  —  from  such  teeth ; 
Delicate  little  pearl-white  wedges, 
All  transparent  at  the  edges. 

Marian.   False  flatterer,  cease ! 

Festus.  It  is  my  fate 

To  love,  and  make  who  love  me  hate. 

Marian.  No  !  'tis  to  sue  —  to  gain  —  deceive — ■ 
To  tire  of  — to  neglect —  and  leave: 
The  desolation  of  the  soul 
Is  what  I  feel  — 


182  FESTUS. 

A  sense  of  lostness  that  leaves  death 
But  little  to  reveal ; 
For  death  is  nothing  but  the  thought 
Of  something  being  again  nought. 

Helen.    Cease,  lady,  cease  those  aching  sighs, 
Which  shake  the  tear-drops  from  thine  eyes, 
As  morning  wind,  with  wing  fresh  wet, 
Shakes  dew  out  of  the  violet. 
Forgive  me,  if  the  love  once  thine 
Hath  changed  itself  unsought  to  me  ; 
I  did  not  tempt  it  from  thy  heart, 
I  nothing  knew  of  thee  ; 
And  soon,  perchance,  't  will  be  my  part 
As  thou  now  art,  to  be. 

Marian.  I  blame  no  heart,  no  love,  no  fate, 
And  I  have  nothing  to  forgive  ; 
I  wish  for  nought,  repent  of  nought, 
Dislike  nought  but  to  live. 

Helen.   Nay,  sing;  it  will  relieve  thy  heart. 

Marian.  I  cannot  sing  a  mirthful  strain  ; 
And  feel  too  much  to  act  my  part 
E'en  of  an  ebbing  vein. 

Festus.    Our  hearts  are  not  in  our  own  hands 
Why  wilt  thou  make  me  say 
I  cannot  love  as  once  I  loved  ? 

Marian.    Hear  !  —  't  is  for  this  I  stay  — 
To  say  we  part  —  for  ever  part : 
But  oh  !  how  wide  the  line 
Between  thy  Marian's  bursting  heart 
And  that  proud  heart  of  thine. 
And  thou  wilt  wander  here  and  there, 
Ever  the  gay  and  free  ; 
To  other  maids  wilt  fondly  swear, 
As  thou  hast  sworn  to  me ; 
And  I  —  oh !  I  shall  but  retire 
Into  my  grief  alone  ; 
And  kindle  there  the  hidden  fire, 
That  burns,  that  wastes  unknown. 


FESTUS.  183 

And  love  and  life  shall  find  their  tomb 
In  that  sepulchral  flame  :  — 
Be  happy  —  none  shall  know  for  whom  — 
I  will  not  dream  thy  name. 

Festus.   As  sings  the  swan  with  parting  breath, 
So  I  to  thee ; 

While  love  is  leaving  —  worse  than  life  — 
Forewarningly. 

Speak  not,  nor  think  thou,  any  ill  of  me, 
If  thou  wouldst  not  die  soon  and  wretchedly. 
I  cannot  waver  on  my  path 
To  shun  fair  lady's  love  or  wrath. 
Nor  condescend  the  world  to  undeceive 
Which  doth  delight  in  error  and  believe. 
Thus  then  farewell,  dear  lady,  ere  I  go : 
And  dearly  have  I  earned  my  lightest  woe. 

Oh !  if  we  e'er  have  loved,  lady, 

We  must  forego  it  now ; 
Though  sore  the  heart  be  moved,  lady, 

When  bound  to  break  its  vow. 

I  '11  always  think  on  thee, 
And  thou  sometimes —  on  whom,  lady  ? 

And  yet  those  thoughts  must  be 
Like  flowers  flung  on  the  tomb,  lady, 
Then  think  that  I  am  blest,  lady, 

Though  aye  for  thee  I  sigh ; 
In  peace  and  beauty  rest,  lady, 

Nor  mourn  and  mourn  as  I. 

From  one  we  love  to  part,  lady, 

Is  harder  than  to  die  ; 
I  see  it  by  thy  heart,  lady, 

I  feel  it  by  thine  eye. 

Thy  lightest  look  can  tell 
Thy  heaviest  thought  to  me,  lady ; 

Oh !  I  have  loved  thee  well, 

But  well  seems  ill  with  thee,  lady; 


184  FESTUS. 

Though  sore  the  heart  be  moved,  lady, 

When  bound  to  break  its  vow  — 
Yet  if  we  ever  loved,  lady, 

We  must  forego  it  now.  — 

Lucifer.     Come,  I  must  separate  you  two, 
Such  wretchedness  will  never  do. 
The  little  cloud  of  grief  which  just  appears, 
If  left  to  spread,  will  drown  us  all  in  tears. 

Emma.    Oblige  us,  pray,  then,  with  a  song. 

Charles.   I  am  sure  he  has  a  singing  face. 

Will.     At  church  I  heard  him  loud  and  long. 

Lucifer.  Pardon  —  but  you  are  doubly  wrong. 

Helen.     Obey,  I  beg.     Here  —  give  him  place, 

Lucifer.    I  have  not  sung  for  ages,  mind ; 
So  you  must  take  me  as  you  find. 
This  is  a  song  supposed  of  one  — 
A  fallen  spirit  —  name  unknown  — 
Fettered  upon  his  fiery  throne  — 
Calling  on  his  once  angel-love, 
Who  still  remaineth  true  above.  [Sings* 

Thou  hast  more  music  in  thy  voice 

Than  to  the  spheres  is  given, 
And  more  temptations  on  thy  lips 

Than  lost  the  angels  Heaven. 
Thou  hast  more  brightness  in  thine  eyes 

Than  all  the  stars  which  burn, 
More  dazzling  art  thou  than  the  throne 

We  fallen  dared  to  spurn. 

Go  search  through  Heaven  —  the  sweetest  smile 

That  lightens  there  is  thine  ; 
And  through  Hell's  burning  darkness  breaks 

No  frown  so  fell  as  mine. 
One  smile  —  'twill  light,  one  tear  —  'twill  cool; 

These  will  be  more  to  me 
Than  all  the  wealth  of  all  the  worlds, 

Or  boundless  power  could  be.  . 


FESTUS.  185 

Helen".     Entreat  him,  pray,  to  sing  again. 
Lucifer.     Any  thing  any  one  desires. 
Festus.     Your  loveliness  hath  but  to  deign 
To  will,  and  he'll  do  all  that  will  requires. 

Lucifer  sings.     Oh !  many  a  cloud 
Hath  lift  its  wing, 
And  many  a  leaf 
Hath  clad  the  spring ; 
But  there  .shall  be  thrice 
The  leaf  and  cloud, 
And  thrice  shall  the  world 
Have  worn  her  shroud, 
Ere  there 's  any  like  thee, 
But  where  thou  wilt  be. 

Oh !  many  a  storm 
Hath  drenched  the  sun, 
And  many  a  stream 
To  sea  hath  run ; 
,  But  there  shall  be  thrice 

The  storm  and  stream, 
Ere  there's  any  like  thee, 
But  in  angel's  dream ; 
Or  in  look,  or  in  love, 
But  in  Heaven  above. 

Lucy.    What  is  love  ?     Oh !  I  wonder  so  ; 
Do  tell  me  —  who  pretends  to  know  ? 

Frank.     Ask  not  of  me,  love,  what  is  love  ? 
Ask  what  is  good  of  God  above  — 
Ask  of  the  great  sun  what  is  light  — 
Ask  what  is  darkness  of  the  night  — 
Ask  sin  of  what  may  be  forgiven  — 
Ask  what  is  happiness  of  Heaven  — 
Ask  what  is  folly  of  the  crowd  — 
Ask  what  is  fashion  of  the  shroud  — 
Ask  what  is  sweetness  of  thy  kiss  — 
Ask  of  thyself  what  beauty  is ; 


186  FESTUS. 

And,  if  they  each  should  answer,  I ! 
Let  me,  too,  join  them  with  a  sigh. 
Oh !  let  me  pray  my  life  may  prove, 
When  thus,  with  thee,  that  I  am  love. 

Festus.     I  cannot  love  as  I  have  loved, 
And  yet  I  know  not  why ; 
It  is  the  one  great  woe  of  life 
To  feel  all  feeling  die ; 
And  one  by  one  the  heartstrings  snap, 
As  age  comes  on  so  chill ; 
And  hope  seems  left  that  hope  may  cease, 
And  all  will  soon  be  still. 
And  the  strong  passions,  like  to  storms, 
Soon  rage  themselves  to  rest, 
Or  leave  a  desolated  calm  — 
A  worn  and  wasted  breast ; 
A  heart  that  like  the  Geyser  spring, 
Amidst  its  bosomed  snows, 
May  shrink,  not  rest  —  but  with  its  blood 
Boils  even  in  repose. 
And  yet  the  things  one  might  have  loved 
Remain  as  they  have  been, — 
Truth  ever  lovely,  and  one  heart 
Still  sacred  and  serene ; 
But  lower,  less,  and  grosser  things 
Eclipse  the  world-like  mind, 
And  leave  their  cold  dark  shadow  where 
Most  to  the  light  inclined. 
And  then  it  ends  as  it  began, 
The  orbit  of  our  race, 
In  pains  and  tears,  and  fears  of  life, 
And  the  new  dwelling-place. 
From  life  to  death  —  from  death  to  life, 
We  hurry  round  to  God, 
And  leave  behind  us  nothing  but 
The  path  that  we  have  trod. 

Helen.    In  vain  I  try  to  lure  thy  heart 
From  grief  to  mirth. 


FESTUS.  187 

It  were  as  easy  to  ward  off 
Night  from  the  earth. 

Festus.    Fill !  I'll  drink  it  till  I  die  — 
Helen's  lip  and  Helen's  eye  ! 
An  eye  which  outsparkles 
The  beads  of  the  wine, 
With  a  hue  which  outdarkles 
The  deeps  where  they  shine. 
Come  !  with  that  lightly  flushing  brow, 
And  darkly  splendid  eye, 
And  white  and  wavy  arms  which  now, 
Like  snow-wreaths  on  the  dark  brown  bough, 
So  softly  on  me  lie. 

Come  !  let  us  love,  while  love  we  may, 
Ere  youth's  bright  sands  be  run ; 
The  hour  is  nigh  when  every  soul 
Which  'scapeth  evil's  dread  control, 
Nor  drains  the  furies'  fiery  bowl, 
Shall  into  Heaven  for  aye, 
And  love  its  God  alone.  [the  hours 

Helen.    Now  let  me  leave  my  throne ;  and  if 
Have  measured  every  moment  by  a  kiss, 
As  I  do  think,  since  first  ye  gave  these  flowers, 
It  was  to  teach  us  how  to  dial  bliss. 
Farewell,  dear  crown,  thy  mistress  will  not  wear, 
Save  when  she  sitteth  royally  alone. 
Farewell,  too,  throne !  not  quickly  wilt  thou  bear 
A  happier  form,  if  fairer  than  mine  own. 

Will.     The  ladies  leave  us ! 

Lucifer.  Oh !  by  all  means  let  them 

But  say,  for  Heaven  itself,  we  '11  not  forget  them ; 
Say  we  will  pledge  them  to  the  top  of  breath, 
As  loud  as  thunder,  and  as  deep  as  death. 

Festus  apart.    Where  is  thy  grave,  my  love  ? 
I  want  to  weep. 

High  as  thou  art  this  earth  above, 
My  woe  is  deep ; 

And  my  heart  is  cold  as  is  thy  grave, 
Where  I  can  neither  soothe  nor  save. 


188  FESTUS. 

Whate'er  I  say,  or  do,  or  see, 

I  think  and  feel  alone  to  thee. 

Oh !  can  it  —  can  it  be  forgiven, 

That  I  forget  thou  art  in  Heaven  ? 

Thou  wilt  forgive  me  this,  and  more : 

Love  spends  his  all,  and  still  hath  store. 

Thou  wilt  forgive,  if  beauty's  wile 

Should  win,  perforce,  one  glance  from  me  ; 

When  they,  whose  art  it  is  to  smile, 

Can  never  smile  my  heart  from  thee ; 

And  if  with  them  I  chance  to  be, 

And  give  mine  ear  up  to  their  singing, 

It,  wind-like,  only  wakes  the  sea, 

In  all  its  mad  monotony, 

Of  memory  forth  thy  music  ringing. 

Thou  wilt  forgive,  if  now  and  then 

I  link  with  hands  less  loved  than  thine, 

Whose  gold-like  touch  makes  kings  of  men, 

x^ut  wakes  no  will  in  blood  of  mine ; 

And  if  with  them  I  toss  the  wine, 

And  set  my  soul  in  love's  ripe  riot, 

It  echoes  not  —  this  desert  shrine, 

Where  still  thy  love  from  Heaven  doth  shine, 

Moon-like,  across  some  ruin's  quiet. 

Thou  wilt  forgive  me,  if  my  feet 

Should  move  to  music  with  the  fair, 

When,  at  each  turn,  I  burn  to  meet 

Thy  stream-like  step  and  airy  air ; 

And  if,  before  some  beauty  there, 

Mine  eye  may  forge  one  glance  of  gladness, 

It  is  but  the  ripple  of  despair, 

That  shows  the  bed  is  all  but  bare, 

And  nought  scarce  left  but  stony  sadness. 

Thou  wilt  forgive,  if  e'er  my  heart 

Err  from  the  orbit  of  its  love  ; 

When  even  the  bliss-bright  stars  will  start 

Earthwards,  some  lower  sphere  to  prove. 

Thou  wilt  forgive,  if  soft  white  arms 

Embrace,  by  fits,  this  breast  of  mine ; 


FESTUS.  189 

When,  while  amid  their  pillowy  charms, 

My  heart  can  kiss  no  heart  but  thine ; 

And  if  these  lips  but  rarely  pine 

In  the  pale  abstinence  of  sorrow, 

It  is,  that  nightly  I  divine, 

As  I  this  world-sick  soul  recline, 

I  shall  be  with  thee  ere  the  morrow. 

Thou  wilt  forgive,  if  once  with  thee 

tI  limned  the  outline  of  a  Heaven ; 

But  go  and  tell  our  God,  from  me, 

He  must  forgive  what  He  hath  given  ; 

And,  if  we  be  by  passion  driven 

To  love,  and  all  its  natural  madness, 

Tell  Him,  that  man  by  love  hath  thriven, 

And  that  by  love  he  shall  be  shriven  ; 

For  God  is  love  where  love  is  gladness. 

Thou  wilt  forgive,  if  clay-bound  mind 

Can  scarce  discover  that  thou  art ; 

But  wait !  I  feel  the  outward  wind 

Kush  fresh  into  my  fluttering  heart. 

Perchance  thy  spirit  stays  in  yon  mild  star 

In  peace,  and  flame-like  purity,  and  prayer ; 

And,  oh !  when  mine  shall  fly  from  earth  afar, 

I  will  pray  God  that  it  may  join  thine  there : 

'T  were  doubling  Heaven,  that  Heaven  with  thee 

to  share. 
And,  while  thou  leadest  music  and  her  lyre, 
Like  a  sunbeam  holden  by  its  golden  hair, 
May  I,  too,  mingling  with  the  immortal  choir, 
Love  thee,  and  worship  God !  what  more  may  soul 

desire  ? 
Enough  for  me  !  but,  if  there  be 
More,  it  shall  be  left  for  thee. 

Walter.     If  any  thing  I  love  in  chief, 
It  is  that  flowery  rich  relief 
That  wine  doth  chase  on  mortal  metal 
Before  good  wine  begins  to  settle  ; 
But  all  seem  smilingly,  serenely  dull, 
And  melancholy  as  the  moon  at  full. 


190  FESTUS. 

Quenched  by  their  company  they  seem, 
Like  sparks  of  fire  in  clouds  of  steam. 

Charles.     They  who  mourn  the  lack  of  wit, 
Show,  at  least,  no  more  of  it. 

Festus.     I  cannot  bear  to  be  alone, 
I  hate  to  mix  with  men ; 
To  me  there 's  torture  in  the  tone 
Which  bids  me  talk  again. 
Like  silly  nestlings,  warned  in  vain, 
My  heart's  young  joys  have  flown ; 
While  singing  to  them,  even  then, 
They  left  me  one  by  one. 
I  envy  every  soul  that  dies 
Out  of  this  world  of  care : 
I  envy  e'en  the  lifeless  skies, 
That  they  enshrine  thee  there. 
And  would  I  were  the  bright  blue  air 
Which  doth  insphere  thine  eyes, 
That  thou  mightst  meet  me  everywhere, 
And  feel  these  faithful  sighs. 
E'en  as  the  bubble  that  is  mixed 
Of  air  and  wine  right  red, 
So  my  heart's  love  is  shared  betwixt 
The  living  and  the  dead. 
If  on  her  breast  I  lay  my  head, 
My  heart  on  thine  is  fixed :  — 
Wilt  thou  I  loose,  as  I  have  said, 
Or  keep  the  soul  thou  seek'st  ? 
From  me  thou  canst  not  pass  away 
While  I  have  soul  or  sight ;  — 
I  see  thee  on  my  waking  way, 
And  in  my  dreams  thee  bright ; 
I  see  thee  in  the  dead  of  night, 
And  the  full  life  of  day  ; 
I  know  thee  by  a  sudden  light ; 
It  is  thy  soul,  I  say. 
If  yonder  stars  be  filled  with  forms 
Of  breathing  clay  like  ours, 


FESTUS.  191 

Perchance  the  space  that  spreads  between 

Is  for  a  spirit's  powers ; 

And  loving  as  we  two  have  loved 

In  spirit  and  in  heart, 

Whether  to  space  or  star  removed, 

God  will  not  bid  us  part. 

Frank.     As  to  this  seat — its  late  and  fair  pos- 
sessor 
Should,  ere  she  went,  have  chosen  her  successor. 

Festus.     In  right  of  her  who  sat  thereon 
I  think  I  might  demand  the  throne ; 
I  rather  choose  to  let  it  be. 

All.     George  shall  be  King  of  the  company  ! 

George.     My  loving  subjects !  I  shall  first  pro- 
mulge 
A  few  good  rules  by  which  to  indulge ; 
They  are  good,  according  to  my  thinking, 
And  shall  be  held  the  laws  of  drinking. 
First  —  each  man  shall  do  what  he  chooses, 
Provided  that  he  ne'er  refuses, 
But  shall  be  sworn,  by  stand  and  stopper, 
To  drink  as  much  as  I  think  proper. 

Will.     Stay  !  —  all  of  you  who  think,  with  me, 
This  law  should  pass, 
Will  please  to  signify  the  same 
By  emptying  their  glass. 

Walter.     Filling  again  and  emptying,  and  so 
on, 
At  each  law  —  pari  passu,  as  we  go  on. 

George.     Secondly  —  no  man  shall  be  held  as 
mellow 
Who  can  distinguish  blue  from  yellow. 
Thirdly  —  no  man  shall  miss  his  turn  nor  toast, 
Nor  yet  give  more  than  two  at  once,  at  most. 
Fourthly  —  if  one  at  table  should  fall  under, 
There  let  him  lie  —  so  much  extinguished  thun- 
der. 
Fifthly  —  let  all,  in  such  case,  who  still  stay, 
Like  living  lightnings,  but  the  brighter  play. 


192  FESTUS. 

Sixthly,  and  last  but  one  —  mind  this,  there  shan't 
Be  aught  said  that  is  not  irrelevant. 
Seventhly  —  if  any  of  these  edicts  should  not 
Be  kept,  it  shall  be  good  to  plead,  I  would  not. 

Charles.     Oh,  let  the  royal  law 
Be  writ  in  rosy  wine  ! 
And  read  and  kept 
&t  every  feast 
Where  wit  and  mirth  combine. 

Festus.     How  sweetly  shine  the  steadfast  stars, 
Each  eyeing,  sister-like,  the  earth ; 
And  softly  chiding  scenes  like  this, 
Of  senseless  and  profaning  mirth. 

Lucifer.     Thou  art  ever  prating  of  the  stars 
Like  an  old  soldier  of  his  scars ; 
Thou  shouldst  have  been  a  starling,  friend, 
And  not  an  earthling :  end  ! 

Festus.     And  could  I  speak  as  many  times 
Of  each  as  there  are  stars  in  Heaven, 
I  could  not  utter  half  the  thoughts  — 
The  sweet  thoughts  one  to  me  hath  given. 
The  holy  quiet  of  the  skies 
May.  waken  well  the  blush  of  shame, 
Whene'er  we  think  that  thither  lies 
The  Heaven  we  heed  not —  ought  not  name. 
Oh,  Heaven !  let  down  thy  cloudy  lids, 
And  close  thy  thousand  eyes ; 
For  each,  in  burning  glances,  bids 
The  wicked  fool  be  wise. 

Lucifer.     I  can  interpret  well  the  stars. 

Charles.     Indeed  !  they  need  interpreters. 

Lucifer.     Then  thus,  in  their  eternal  tongue 
And  musical  thunders,  all  have  sung. 
To  every  ear  which  ear  hath  given, 
From  birth  to  death,  this  note  of  Heaven. . 
Deathlings!  on  earth  drink,  laugh,. and  love! 
Ye  may  n't  hereafter  —  under  or  above. 
Yes,  this  the  tale  they  all  have  told, 
Since  first  they  made  old  Chaos  shrink  — 


FESTUS.  193 

Since  first  they  flocked  creation's  fold, 
And  filled  all  air  like  flakes  of  gold 
Which  drop  yon  royal  drink : 
For  as  the  moon  doth  madmen  rule, 
It  is,  that  near  and  few  they  are ; 
And  so  in  Heaven  each  single  star 
Doth  sway  some  reasonable  fool, 
Whether  on  earth  or  other  sphere ; 
For  what's  above  is  what  is  here. 
Moons  and  madmen  only  change ; 
What  can  truth  or  stars  derange  ? 

Edward.     Brave  stars,  bright  monitors  of  joy ! 
Right  well  ye  time  your  hours  of  warning ; 
For,  sooth  to  say,  the  eve's  employ 
Doth  wax  less  lovely  towards  the  morning. 
So  push  the  goblet  gaily  round  — 
Drink  deep  of  its  wealth  —  drink  on  ! 
Our  earthly  joy  too  soon  doth  cloy, 
Our  life  is  all  but  gone  ; 
And,  not  enjoy  yon  glorious  cup, 
And  all  the  sweets  which  lie, 
Like  pearls,  within  its  purple  well  — 
Who  would  not  hate  to  die  I 

Will.     And  who,  without  the  cheering  glance 
Of  woman's  witching  eye, 
Could  stand  against  the  storms  of  fate, 
Or  cankering  care  defy  ? 
It  adds  fresh  brightness  to  the  bowl ; 
Then  why  will  men  repine  ? 
Content  we  '11  live  with  Heaven's  best  gifts  — 
With  woman,  and  with  wine. 

Harry.     Cups  while  they  sparkle  — 
Maids  while  they  sigh ; 
Bright  eyes  will  darkle  — 
Lips  grow  dry. 
Cheek  while  the  dew-drops 
Water  its  rose ; 
Life's  fount  hath  few  drops 
Dear  as  those. 


194  FESTUS. 

Arms  while  they  tighten  — 
Hearts  as  they  heave : 
Love  cannot  brighten 
Life's  dark  eve. 

George.     Oh ;  the  wine  is  like  life ; 
And  the  sparkles  that  play 
By  the  lips  of  the  bowl 
Are  the  loves  of  the  day. 
Then  kiss  the  bright  bubble 
That  breaks  in  its  rise  ; 
Oh !  love  is  a  trouble, 
As  light  when  it  dies. 

Charles.    Let  the  young  be  glad !  though  cares 
in  crowds 
Leave  scarce  a  break  of  blue, 
Yet  hope  gives  wings  to  morning  clouds ; 
And  while  their  shade  the  sky  enshrouds  — 
By  love  and  wine,  which  through  them  shine  — 
They  are  turned  to  a  golden  hue. 
Then  give  us  wine,  for  we  ought  to  shine 
In  the  hour  of  dark  and  dew. 

Festus.     Well  might  the  thoughtful  race  of  old 

With  ivy  twine  the  head 
Of  him  they  hailed  their  god  of  wine,  — 

Thank  God !  the  lie  is  dead : 
For  ivy  climbs  the  crumbling  hall 

To  decorate  decay ; 
And  spreads  its  dark  deceitful  pall 

To  hide  what  wastes  away. 

And  wine  will  circle  round  the  brain 

As  ivy  o'er  the  brow, 
Till  what  could  once  see  far  as  stars 

Is  dark  as  Death's  eye  now. 
Then  dash  the  cup  down  !  'tis  not  worth 

A  soul's  great  sacrifice : 
The  wine  will  sink  into  the  earth, 

The  soul,  the  soul  —  must  rise. 


FESTUS.  195 

Charles.    A  toast ! 

Frederic.     Here 's  beauty's  fairest  flower  — 
The  maiden  of  our  own  birth-land  ! 

Harry.     Pale  face  !  —  Oh  for  one  happy  hour 
To  hold  my  splendid  Spaniard's  hand ! 

Festus.     Why  differ  on  which  is  the  fairest  form, 
When  all  are  the  same  the  heart  to  warm? 
Although  by  different  charms  they  strike, 
Their  power  is  equal  and  alike. 
Ye  bigots  of  beauty !  behold  I  stand  forth, 
And  drink  to  the  lovely  all  over  the  earth. 
Come,  fill  to  the  girl  by  the  Tagus'  waves ! 
Wherever  she  lives  there's  a  land  of  slaves. 
And  here 's  to  the  Scot !  with  her  deep  blue  eye, 
Like  the  far  off  lochs  'neath  her  hill-propt  sky. 
To  her  of  the  green  Isle  !  whose  tyrants  deform 
The  land,  where  she  beams  like  the  bow  in  the  storm. 
To  the  Norman  !  so  noble,  and  stately  and  tall ; 
Whose  charms,  ever  changing,  can  please  as  they 

pall: 
Two  bowls  in  a  breath !  here 's  to  each  and  to  all ! 
Come  fill  to  the  English !  whose  eloquent  brow 
Says,  pleasure  is  passing,  but  coming,  and  now ; 
Oh !  her  eyes  o'er  the  wine  are  like  stars  o'er  the  sea, 
And  her  face  is  the  face  of  all  Heaven  to  me. 
And  here 's  to  the  Spaniard !  that  warm,  blooming 

maid, 
With  her  step  superb,  and  her  black  locks'  braid. 
To  her  of  dear  Paris !  with  soul-spending  glance, 
Whose   feet,  as   she's   sleeping,  look  dreaming  a 

dance. 
To  the  maiden  whose  lip  like  a  rose-leaf  is  curled, 
And  her  eye  like  the  star-flag  above  it  unfurled ! 
Here 's  to  beauty,  young  beauty,  all  over  the  world ! 

Will.     Hurrah !  a  glorious  toast ; 
*T  would  warm  a  ghost. 

Festus.    It  moves  not  me.    I  cannot  drink 
The  toast  I  have  given. 
There !  —  Earth  may  pledge  it,  and  she  will  — ^ 


196  FESTUS. 

Herself  and  her  beauty  to  Heaven. 
Drink  to  the  dead  —  youth's  feelings  vain  ! 
Drink  to  the  heart  —  the  battered  wreck, 
Hurled  from  all  passion's  stormy  main ! 
Though  aye  the  billows  o'er  it  break, 
The  ruin  rots,  nor  rides  again. 

Charles.     Friend  of  my  heart !  away  with  care, 
And  sing,  and  dance,  and  laugh : 
To  love,  and  to  the  favorite  fair, 
The  wine-cup  ever  quaff. 
Oh,  drink  to  the  lovely  !  whatever  they  are, 
Though  fair  as  snow  —  as  light ; 
For  whether  or  falling,  or  fixed  the  star, 
They  both  are  heavenly  bright. 
Out  upon  Care !  he  shall  not  stay 
Within  a  heart  like  thine  ; 
There 's  nought  in  Heaven  or  earth  can  weigh 
Down  youth,  and  love,  and  wine. 
Then  drink  with  the  merry  !  though  we  must  die, 
Like  beauty's  tear  we  '11  fall ; 
We  have  lived  in  the  light  of  a  loved  one's  eye, 
And  to  live,  love,  and  die  is  all. 

Festus.     Vain  is  the  world  and  all  it  boasts  : 
How  brief  Love's  pleasure's  date  ! 
We  turn  the  bowl  and  all  forget 
The  bias  of  our  fate. 

George.     How  goes  the  enemy  ? 

Lucifer.  What  can  he  mean  ? 

Festus.     He  asks  the  hour. 

Lucifer.  Aha !  then  I 

Advise,  if  Time  thy  foe  hath  been, 
Be  quick !  shake  hands,  man,  with  Eternity. 


Scene  —  A  Church-yard. 
Festus  and  Lucifer  beside  a  Grave. 

Festus.    Let  years  crowd  on,  and  age  bow  down 
Mv  body  to  the  earth  which  gave. 


FESTUS.  197 

As  yon  gray,  worn  out,  crumbling  stone 

Dips  o'er  the  grave ! 

What,  though  for  me  no  music  thrill, 

Nor  mirth  delight,  nor  beauty  move  ; 

Though  the  heart  stiffen  and  wax  still, 

And  make  no  love ; 

Still,  deep,  and  bright,  like  river  gold, 

Imbedded  here  thy  love  shall  lie  — 

Sun-grains,  that  with  the  sands  are  rolled, 

Of  memory. 

Shall  that  soul  never  burst  the  tomb, 

Draped  in  long  robes  of  living  light  ? 

Or,  worm-like,  alway  eat  the  gloom 

And  dust  of  night  ? 

Lucifer.     Oh  !  life  in  sporting  on  earth  lies, 
Till  death  share  up  the  rich  green  sod ; 
But  if  the  spirit  lives  or  dies, 
Why  try  ye  God  ? 
What  should  it  never  smile  nor  sigh 
From  cheeks  or  lips  but  those  beneath  ? 
Doth  love  not  weigh  the  world's  vast  lie  ? 
Doth  life  not  death  ? 

Festus.     I  ask  why  man  should  suffer  death  ? 

Lucifer.     Answer  —  what  right  to   life   hath 
he? 
God  gives  and  takes  away  your  breath : 
What  more  have  ye  ? 
Breath  is  your  life,  and  life  your  soul ; 
Ye  have  it  warm  from  His  kind  hands : 
Then  yield  it  back  to  the  great  Whole 
When  He  demands. 

Why,  deathling,  wilt  thou  long  for  Heaven  ? 
Why  seek  a  bright  but  blinding  way  ? 
Go,  thank  thy  God  that  He  hath  given 
Night  upon  day : 

Go,  thank  thy  God  that  thou  hast  lived, 
And  ask  no  more  :  't  is  all  He  gave : 
*T  is  all  there  needs  to  be  believed  — 
God  and  the  grave. 


198  FESTUS. 

Festus.     For  Thee,  God,  will  I  save  my  heart 
For  Thee  my  nature's  honor  keep ; 
Then,  soul  and  body,  all  or  part  — 
Rest,  wake,  or  sleep  ! 


Scene  —  Space. 

Festus  and  Lucifer. 

Festus.      Listen!      I  hear  the    harmonies  ot 
Heaven, 
From  sphere  to  sphere   and  from  the  boundless 

round 
Reechoing  bliss  to  those  serenest  heights 
Where  angels  sit  and  strike  their  emulous  harps 
Wreathed  round  with  flowers  and  diamonded  with 

dew; 
Such  dew  as  gemmed  the  everduring  blooms 
Of  Eden  winterless,  or  as  all  night 
The  tree  of  Life  wept  from  its  every  leaf 
Unwithering.     And  now  methinks  I  hear 
The  music  of  the  murmur  of  the  stream 
Which  through  the  Bridal  City  of  the  Lord 
Floweth  all  life  for  ever ;  and  the  breath 
Through  the  star-shading  branches  of  that  Tree 
Transplanted  now  to  Heaven,  but  once  on  earth, 
Whose  fruit  is  for  all  Beings  —  breathed  of  God. 
Oh !  breathe  on  me,  inspiring  spirit-breath  ! 
Oh !  flow  to  me,  ye  heart-reviving  waves  ; 
Freshen  the  faded  soul  that  droops  and  dies. 

Lucifer.     The  universe  is  but    the    gate    of 
Heaven. 
Lo !  from  this  highest  orb,  the  crown  of  space 
And  footstool  unto  Heaven,  we  can  look  up 
And  gain  a  glimpse  of  glory  unconceived. 
Festus.     See  how  yon  angels  stretch  their  shin- 
ing arms, 


FESTUS.  199 

Wave  their  star-haunting  wings  which  gleam  like 

glass, 
And  locks  that  look  like  Morning's  when  she  cornea 
Triumphant  in  the  East.     Is  this  their  joy 
O'er  some  world  penitent  ? 

Lucifer.  Lo  !  there  it  rides  ; 

Blest  to  discharge  on  Heaven's  all  peaceful  shores 
Its  long  accumulated  load  of  life, 
Its  deathless  freight,  —  pilgrims  of  time  and  space. 
Yon  guilty  orb  of  hesitating  light 
Slow  looming,  there,  on  its  dark  path,  goes  up 
At  the  forewritten  hour,  as  do  all  worlds 
To  God,  to  judgment ;  and  the  earthquake  groans 
Which  rend  its  adamantine  breast  forebode 
Its  agonizing  doom. 

Festus.  And  doth  not  Heaven 

Grieve  with  the  lost  as  gladden  with  the  saved  ? 

Lucifer.     How  many  immortals  mourn  at  the 
decree 
Of  righteous  wisdom,  which  alone  to  them 
Is  bliss  sufficient,  being  infinite  ? 

Festus.    If  God  hath  made  all,  He  alone  it  is 
Who  hath  to  answer  for  all. 

Lucifer.  He  hath  made. 

To  secondary  natures  it  seems  just 
That  justice  should  be  realized,  and  there 
Is  one  example  extant  in  the  skies. 

Festus.     But  wherefore  did  it  not  repent  in 
Time  ? 

Lucifer.    What  unto  us  is  Time,  stands  before 
God 
Eternity.     Repentance  is  the  grief 
For  and  effectual  abstinence  from  sin, 
Which  secondary  natures  without  God 
Cannot  attain  to. 

Festus.  Cloudy  and  clear  by  turns 

Thy  words  as  Heaven.     I  know  not  what  to  think 
Nor  how  to  act. 

Lucifer.    It  is  natural ;  and  none 


200  FESTUS. 

Can  aim  or  hit  but  as  appointed  them. 

There  is  but  one  great  sinner,  Human  nature, 

Predict  of  every  world  and  predicate  : 

The  wicked  one,  the  Enemy  of  God, 

To  be  destroyed  in  the  eternal  fire 

Of  His  wrath,  even  thus  in  Deity  — 

In  whom  as  they  begin  must  all  things  end. 

God  loveth  only  His  own  spirit,  so 

All  that  is  base  shall  perish.     From  the  first 

These  things  were  fixed,  and  are  and  aye  shall  be 

Consummating,  and  are  revealed  as  writ 

In  words  always  fulfilled  and  burning  truth 

Under  the  buried  basements  of  the  skies, 

Which  after  overthrown  shall  reappear. 

The  unenlightened  mind  sees  Deity 

In  all  things,  but  the  spiritual  soul 

All  things  in  God.     Now,  ere  we  higher  rise, 

Look  downwards  from  this  coping  of  the  world ; 

And  know  that  down  to  the  profoundest  depth 

Of  utter  space,  where  not  an  atom  mars 

The  void  invisible,  it  were  easier  far 

To  cast  a  line  and  calculate  its  rate, 

Or  pierce  all  space,  nor  cross  the  path  of  light, 

Than  fathom  man's  dark  heart  or  sound  his  soul. 


Scene  —  Heaven. 

Lucifer  and  Festus,  entering. 

The  Archangels.     Infinite  God !     Thy  will  is 
done. 
The  world's  last  sand  is  all  but  run  : 
The  night  is  feeding  on  the  sun. 
Lucifer.     All-being   God!     I  come  to  Thee 
again, 
Nor  come  alone.     Mortality  is  here. 
Thou  bad'st  me  do  my  will,  and  I  have  dared 
To  do  it.    I  have  brought  him  up  to  Heaven. 


FESTUS.  201 

God. 
Thou  canst  not  do  what  is  not  willed  to  be. 
Suns  are  made  up  of  atoms,  Heaven  of  souls ; 
And  souls  and  suns  are  but  the  atoms  of 
The  body  I,  God,  dwell  in.     What  wilt  thou 
With  him  who  is  here  with  thee  ? 

Lucifer.  Show  him  God. 

God. 
No  being,  upon  part  of  whom  the  curse 
Of  death  rests  —  were  it  only  on  his  shadow, 
Can  look  on  God  and  live. 
Lucifer.  Look,  Festus,  look. 

Festus.     Eternal  fountain  of  the  Infinite, 
On   whose    life-tide    the   stars   seem   strown    like 

bubbles, 
Forgive  me  that  an  atomie  of  being 
Hath  sought  to  see  its  Maker  face  to  face. 
I  have  seen  all  Thy  works  and  wonders,  passed 
From  star  to  star,  from  space  to  space,  and  feel 
That  to  see  all  which  can  be  seen  is  nothing, 
And  not  to  look  on  Thee  the  Invisible. 
The  spirits  that  I  met  all  seemed  to  say, 
As  on  they  sped  upon  their  starward  course, 
And  slackened  their  lightning  wings  one  moment 

o'er  me, 
I  could  not  look  on  God  whate'er  I  was. 
And  Thou  didst  give  this  spirit  at  my  side 
Power  to  make  me  more  than  them  immortal. 
So  when  we  had  winged  through  Thy  wide  world 

of  things, 
And  seen   stars  made  and  saved,  destroyed  and 

judged, 
I  said  —  and  trembled  lest  Thou  shouldst  not  hear 

me, 
And  make  Thyself  right  ready  to  forgive, 
I  will  see  God,  before  I  die,  in  Heaven. 
Forgive  me,  Lord ! 

God. 

Rise,  mortal !  look  on  me. 


202  FESTUS. 

Festus.     Oh  !   I  see  nothing  but  like  dazzling 
darkness. 

Lucifer.     I  knew  how  it  would  be.     I  am 
away. 

Festus.     I  am  Thy  creature,  God  !  oh,  slay  me 
not, 
But  let  some  angel  take  me,  or  I  die. 

Genius.     Come  hither,  Festus. 

Festus.  Who  art  thou  ? 

Genius.  I  am 

One  who  hath  aye  been  by  thee  from  thy  birth, 
Thy  guardian  angel,  thy  good  genius. 

Festus.    I  knew  thee  not  till  now. 

Genius.  I  am  never  seen 

In  the  earth's  low  thick  light,  but  here  in  Heaven, 
And  in  the  air  which  God  breathes,  I  am  clear. 
I  tell  to  God  each  night  thy  thoughts  and  deeds ; 
And  watching  o'er  thee  both  on  earth  and  here, 
Pray  unto  Hun  for  thee  and  intercede. 

Festus.     And  this  is  Heaven.     Lead  on.     Will 
God  forgive 
That  I  did  long  to  see  Him  V 

Genius.  It  is  the  strain 

Of  all  high  spirits  towards  Him.     Thou  couldst  not 
Even   if  thou   wouldst,   behold   God ;    masked  in 

dust, 
Thine  eye  did  light  on  darkness ;  but  when  dead, 
And  the  dust  shaken  off  the  shining  essence, 
God   shall   glow   through   thee   as   through   living 

glass, 
And  every  thought  and  atom  of  thy  being 
Shall  guest  His  glory,  be  overbright  with  God. 
Hadst  thou  not  been  by  faith  immortalized 
For  the  instant,  then  thine  eye  had  been  thy  death. 
Come,  I  will  show  thee  Heaven  and  all  angels. 
Lo  !  the  recording  angel. 

Festus.  Him  I  see 

High-seated,  and  the  pen  within  his  hand 
Plumed  like  a  storm-portending  cloud  which  curves 


FESTUS.  203 

Half  over  Heaven,  and  swift,  in  use  divine, 
As  is  a  warrior's  spear ! 

Genius.  The  book  wherein 

Are  writ  the  records  of  the  universe, 
Lies  like  a  world  laid  open  at  his  feet. 
And   there,   the   Book   of   Life   which  holds  the 

names, 
Formed  out  in  starry  brilliants,  of  God's  sons,  — 
The  spirit-names  which  angels  learn  by  heart, 
Of  worlds  beforehand.     Wilt  thou  see  thine  own  ? 

Festus.     My  name  is  written  in  the  Book  of 
Life. 
It  is  enough.     That  constellated  word 
Is  more  to  me  and  clearer  than  all  stars, 
Henceforward  and  for  aye. 

Genius.  Raise  still  thine  eyes  ! 

Thy  gleaming  throne !  hewn  from  that  mount  of 

light 
Which  was  before  created  light  or  night 
Never  created,  Heaven's  eternal  base, 
Whereon  God's  throne  is  'stablished.     Sit  on  it ! 

Festus.    Nay,  I  will  forestall  nothing  more  than 
sight. 

Genius.     Turn,  then,  and  view   yon   streams 
where  spirits  sport, 
Quaffing  immortal  life,  preparing  aye 
For  higher  and  intenser  Being  still. 
These  are  the  upper  fountains  of  the  Heavens, 
The  emanations  of  Eternity ; 
By  washing  them  in  which  they  purify 
Their  eyes  to  penetrate  the  essential  light 
In  all  things  hidden,  seen  alone  by  eyes 
Fire-spirited,  etherially  clear, 
Which  like  the  fabled  stone,  conceived  of  fire, 
Son  of  the  sun,  transmutes  all  seen  to  soul. 
And  such  the  bliss  and  power  reserved  for  man ; 
Yet  but  the  surface-shadow  canst  thou  see. 
The  substance  is  to  be.     Behold  yon  group 
Of  spirits  blest !  in  their  divinest  eyes 


204  FESTUS. 

The  spirit  speaks,  and  shows  that  in  their  own 
All  doubt  and  want  hath  ceased,  as  death  hath 

ceased. 
Hither  they  come,  rejoicing,  marvelling. 

Festus.     How  all  with  kindly  wonder  look  on 
me ! 
Mayhap  I  tell  of  earth  to  their  pure  sense. 
Some  seem  as  if  they  knew  me.     I  know  none. 
But  how  claim  kinship  with  the  glorified 
Unless  with  them  like-glorified  !     Yet,  yes  — 
It  is  —  it  must  be  ;  —  that  angelic  spirit !  — 
My  heart  outruns  me  —  mother  !  see  thy  son. 

Angel.     Child,  how  art  thou  here  ? 

Festus.     God  hath  let  me  come. 

Angel.     Hast  thou  not  come  unbidden  and  un- 
prepared ? 

Festus.     Forgive  me,  if  it  be  so.     I  am  come. 
And  I  have  ever  said  there  are  two  who  will 
Forgive  me  aught  I  do  —  my  God  and  thou ! 

Angel.    I  do  !  may  He  ! 

Festus.     Dear  mother,  thou  art  blessed  ; 
And  I  am  blessed,  too,  in  knowing  thee. 

Angel.     Son  of  my  hopes  on  earth  and  prayers 
in  Heaven  ! 
The  love  of  God  !  oh,  it  is  infinite 
Even  as  our  imperfection.     Promise,  child, 
That  thou  wilt  love  Him  more  and  more  for  this, 
And  for  His  boundless  kindness  thus  towards  me. 
Now,  my  son,  hear  me  !  for  the  hours  of  Heaven 
Are  not  as  those  of  earth ;  and  all  is  all 
But  lost  that  is  not  given  unto  God. 
Oft  have  I  seen  with  joy  thy  thoughts  of  Heaven, 
And  holy  hopes,  which  track  the  soul  with  light, 
Rise  from  dead  doubts  within  thy  troubled  breast, 
As  souls  of  drowned  bodies  from  the  sea, 
Upwards  to  God,  and  marked  them  so  received, 
That  oh  !  my  soul  hath  overflowed  with  rapture 
As  now  thine  eye  with  tears.     But  oh !  my  son 
Beloved  !  fear  thou  ever  for  thy  soul ; 


FESTUS.  205* 

It  yet  hath  to  be  saved.    Nought  perfect  stands 
But  that  which  is  in  Heaven.     God  is  all-kind  ; 
And  long  time  hath  he  made  thee  think  of  Him ; 
Think  on  Him  yet  in  time.     Ere  I  left  earth, 
With  the  last  breath  which  air  would  spare  for  me, 
With  the  last  look   which  light  would   bless   me 

with, 
I  prayed  thou  mightst  be  happy  and  be  wise  — 
And  half  the  prayer  I  brought  myself  to  God  — 
And  lo  !  thou  art  unhappy  and  unwise. 
Festus.     Blessed  one  !  I  rejoice  that  thou  art 

clear, 
And  all  who  have  cared  for  me,  of  my  misdeeds. 
Thy  spirit  was  on  those  who  nurtured  me. 
All  word  and  practice  that  could  be  of  good, 
Was  given  me ;  so  that  my  sin  is  splendid. 
Yes !  if  I  have  sinned,  I  have  sinned  sublimely ; 
And  I  am  glad  I  suffer  for  my  faults. 
I  would  not  if  I  might,  be  bad  and  happy. 

Angel.     God  laughs  at  ill  by  man  made,  and 

allows  it. 
The  vaunt  of  mountainous  evil  and  the  power 
To  challenge  Heaven  from  a  molehill,  child  ! 
Festus.     God  hath  made  but  few  better  hearts 

than  mine, 
However  much  it  fail  in  the  wise  ways 
Of  the  world,  as  living  in  the  dull,  dark  streets 
Of  forms  and  follies  wherein  men  build  themselves. 
Angel.   The  goodness  of  the  heart  is  shown  in 

deeds 
Of  peacefulness  and  kindness.     Hand  and  heart 
Are  one  thing  with  the  good  as  thou  shouldst  be. 
The  splendor  of  corruption  hath  no  power 
Nor  vital  essence ;  and  content  in  sin 
Shows  apathy,  not  satisfied  control. 
Do  my  words  trouble  thee  ?     Then  treasure  them. 
Pain  overgot  gives  peace  as  death  does  Heaven. 
All  things  that  speak  of  Heaven  speak  of  peace. 
Peace  hath  more  might  than  war.     High  brows  are 

calm. 


206  FESTUS. 

Great  thoughts  are  still  as  stars;   and  truths,  like 

suns, 
Stir  not ;  though  many  systems  tend  round  them. 
Mind's  step  is  still  as  death's ;  and  all  great  things 
Which  cannot  be  controlled,  whose  end  is  good. 
Behold  yon  throne !  there,  Love,  Faith,  Hope,  are 

one! 
There,  judgment,  righteousness,  and  mercy  make 
One  and  the  same  thing.     God's  salvation  is 
His  vengeance,  and  his  wrath  glory,  as  on  earth 
Destruction  restoration  to  the  pure. 
Humanity  is  perfected  in  Heaven. 

Festus.   I  did  not  make  myself,  nor  plan  my 

soul. 
I  am  no  angel  nursed  in  the  lap  of  light, 
Nor  fed  on  milk  immortal  of  the  stars, 
Nor  golden  fruit  grown  in  the  summery  suns. 
How  am  I  answerable  for  my  heart  ? 
It  is  my  master,  and  is  free  with  me, 
As  fixed  with  fate,  even  as  a  star  which  moves, 
Yet  moveth  only  on  a  certain  course 
In  certain  mode ;  —  its  liberties  are  laws, 
Its  laws  tyrannic ;  I  cannot  hinder  it, 
It  cannot  hinder  God.     All  that  we  do 
Or  bear  is  settled  from  eternity ; 
Whereof  is  no  beginning,  midst,  nor  end. 
To  act,  is  ours ;  quite  sure,  whate'er  we  do, 
Whether  it  be  for  our  own  good  or  ill, 
Or  others'  ill  or  good,  it  is  for  God's 
Glory  —  the  same  and  always :  it  is  ordered. 
The  soul  is  but  an  organ,  and  it  hath 
No  power  of  good  and  evil  in  itself, 
More  than  the  eye  hath  power  of  light  or  dark. 
God  fitted  it  for  good ;  and  evil  is 
Good  in  another  way  we  are  not  skilled  in. 
The  good  we  do  is  of  His  own  good  will,  — 
The  ill,  of  His  own  letting.     Doth  not  nature  — 
All  light  in  life,  shine,  marsh-like,  too,  in  death  ? 
Yea,  wandering  fires  wait  even  on  rottenness 


FESTUS.  207 

w 

Like  a  stray  gleam  of  thought  in  an  idiot's  brain. 
And  thus  I  look  on  souls  that  seem  decaying 
In  sin,  and  flying  off  by  elements. 
All  may  not  live  again  ;  but  all  which  do 
Must  change  perpetually  e'en  in  Heaven ; 
And  not  by  death  to  death,  but  life  to  life. 

Angel.   No  !  step  by  step,  and  throne  by  throne, 
we  rise 
Continually  towards  the  infinite, 
And  ever  nearer  —  never  near  —  to  God. 

Festus.   Yet  merit  or  demerit  none  I  see 
In  nature,  human  or  material, 
In  passions  or  affections  good  or  bad. 
We  only  know  that  God's  best  purposes 
Are  oftenest  brought  about  by  dreadest  sins. 
Is  thunder  evil  or  is  dew  divine  ? 
Does  virtue  he  in  sunshine,  sin  in  storm  ? 
Is  not  each  natural,  each  needful,  best  ? 
How  know  we  what  is  evil  from  what  good  ? 
Wrath  and  revenge  God  claimeth  as  His  own. 
And  yet  men  speculate  on  right  and  wrong 
As  upon  day  and  night,  forgetting  both 
Have  but  one  cause,  and  that  the  same  —  GodV 

will, 
Originally,  ultimately  Him. 
All  right  is  right  divine.     A  worm  hath  rights 
A  king  cannot  despoil  him  of,  nor  sin ; 
Yet  wrongs  are  things  necessitate,  like  wants, 
And  oft  are  well  permitted  to  best  ends. 
A  double  error  sometimes  sets  us  right. 
In  man  there  is  no  rule  of  right  and  wrong 
Inherent  as  mere  man.     Why,  conscience  is 
The  basest  thing  of  all.     Its  life  is  passed 
In  justifying  and  condemning  sin  ; 
Accomplice,  traitor,  judge,  and  headsman,  too, 
But  conscience  knows  its  business  and  performs. 
Nothing  is  lost  in  nature ;  and  no  soul, 
Though  buried  in  the  centre  of  all  sin, 
Is  lost  to  God ;  but  there  it  works  His  will 


208  FESTUS. 

And  burns  comformably.     The  weakest  things 
Are  to  be  made  the  examples  of  His  might ; 
The  most  defective,  of  His  perfect  grace, 
Whene'er  He  thinketh  well.     Oh  !  every  thing 
To  me  seems  good  and  lovely  and  immortal ; 
The  whole  is  beautiful ;  and  I  can  see 
Nought  wrong  in  man  nor  nature,  nought  not  meant 
As  from  His  hands  it  comes  who  fashions  all, 
All  holy  as  His  word.     The  world  is  but 
A  revelation.     He  breathes  Himself  upon  us 
Before  our  birth,  as  o'er  the  formless  void 
He  moveth  at  first,  and  we  are  all  inspired 
With  His  spirit.     All  things  are  God  or  of  God. 
For  the  whole  world  is  in  the  mind  of  God 
What  a  thought  is  in  ours.     Why  boast  we  then 
Of  aught  ?     All  that  is  good  belongs  to  God ; 
And  good  and  God  are  all  things,  or  shall  be. 

Angel.   There  lacks  in  souls  like  thine  unsaved, 
unraised, 
The  light  within  —  the  light  of  perfectness  — 
Such  as  there  is  in  Heaven.     The  soul  hath  sunk 
And  perished  like  a  light-house  in  the  sea ; 
It  is  for  God  to  raise  it  and  rebuild. 

Genius.    And  his,  thy  son's,  He  will  raise.    Since 
with  me, 
I  have  shown  him  infinite  wonders :  we  have  oped 
And  scanned  the  golden  scroll  of  Fate,  wherein 
Are  writ,  in    God's  own   hand,  all   things   which 

happen. 
There  we  have  seen  the  record  of  his  being  — 
His  long  temptation,  sin,  and  suffering. 

Festus.   And  hear  it,  oh  beloved  and  blessed 
one ! 
Mine  own  salvation ! 

Angel.  God  is  great  in  love  ; 

Infinite  in  His  nature,  power,  and  grace ; 
Creating,  and  redeeming,  and  destroying  — ■ 
Infinite  infinitely.     But  in  love  — 
Oh  !  it  is  the  truth  transcendent  over  all  — 


FESTUS.  209 

When  thus  to  one  poor  spirit  He  gives  His  hand, 
He  seems  to  impart  His  own  unboundedness 
Of  bliss.     We  seem  to  be  hardly  worth  destroying, 
And  much  less  savins;;  yet  He  loveth  each 
As  though  all  were  His  equal. 

Festus.  I  know  all 

I  have  to  go  through  henceforth,  —  all  the  doubts, 
Passions  of  life,  and  woes ;  but  knowing  them 
Hinders  them  not ;  I  bear  obeyingly ; 
And  pine  no  more,  as  once  when  I  looked  back 
And  saw  how  life  had  balked,  and  foiled,  and  fooled 

me. 
Fresh  as  a  spouting  spring  upon  the  hills 
My  heart  leaped  out  to  life ;  it  little  thought 
Of  all  the  vile  cares  that  would  rill  into  it, 
And  the  low  places  it  would  have  to  go  through,  — 
The  drains,  the  crossings,  and  the  mill-work  after. 
God  hath  endowed  me  with  a  soul  that  scorns  life  — 
An  element  over  and  above  the  world's : 
But  the  price  one  pays  for  pride  is  mountain-high, 
There  is  a  curse  beyond  the  rack  of  death  — 
A  woe,  wherein  God  hath  put  out  His  strength  — 
A  pain,  past  all  the  mad  wretchedness  we  feel, 
When  the  sacred  secret  hath  flown  out  of  us, 
And  the  heart  broken  open  by  deep  care,  — 
The  cu£se  of  a  high  spirit  famishing, 
Because  all  earth  but  sickens  it 

Angel.  Go,  child  ! 

Fulfil  thy  fate !     Be  —  do  —  bear  —  and    thank 

God! 
To  me  it  seems  as  I  had  lived  all  ages 
Since  I  left  earth ;  and  thou  art  yet  scarce  man. 

Festus.    It  was  not,  mother,  that  I  knew  thy 
face ; 
The  luminous  eclipse  that  is  on  it  now, 
Though  it  was  fair  on  earth,  would  have  made  it 

strange 
Even  to  one  who  knew  as  well  as  he  loved  thee ; 
And  if  these  time-tired  eyes  ever  imaged  thine, 
14 


210  FESTUS. 

It  was  but  for  a  moment,  and  the  sight 
Passed;  and  my  life  was  broken  like  a  line 
At  the  first  word  — but  my  heart  cried  out  in  me. 
Angel.     I  knew  thee  well.     And  now  to  earth 


again 


Go,  son !  and  say  to  all  who  once  were  mine  — 
I  love  them,  and  expect  them. 

Festus.  Blessed  one ! 

I  will. 

Angel.     I  charge  thee,  Genius,  bear  him  safely. 

Genius.     Through  light,  and  night,  and  all  the 
powers  of  air, 
I  have  a  passport. 

Angel.  God  be  with  thee,  child ! 

Genius.     Come ! 

Festus.    I  feel  happier,  better,  nobler  now. 
See  where  she  sits,  and  smiles,  and  points  me  out 
To  those  who  sit  along  with  her.     Who  are 
The  two  ? 

Genius.     One  is  the  mother  of  mankind, 
And  one  the  mother  of  the  Man  who  saved 
Mankind ;  and  she,  thine  own,  the  mother  of 
The  last  man  of  mankind  —  for  thou  art  he. 

Festus.     Am  I?     It  is   enough:  I  have  seen 
God. 

Genius.     God  and  His  great  idea,  the  universe, 
Are  over  and  above  us.     Be  the  one 
Worshipped,  the  other  reverently  proved. 
Wilt  sojourn  for  a  time  among  the  worlds, 
And  test  their  natures  ? 

Festus.  Gladly. 

Genius.  Seek  we,  then, 

All  rareness  and  variety  these  worlds 
Can  offer,  ere  we  reach  thine  orb.     Descend  I 
Now  is  the  age  of  worlds. 


211 


Scene — A  Visit. 

Festus  and  Helen. 

Helen.     Come  to  the  light,  love  !    Let  me  look 
on  thee ! 
Let  me  make  sure  I  have  thee.     Is  it  thou  ? 
Is  this  thy  hand  ?     Are  these  thy  velvet  lips,  — 
Thy  lips  so  lovable  ?     Nay,  speak  not  yet ! 
For  oft  as  I  have  dreamed  of  thee,  it  was 
Thy  speaking  woke  me.     I  will  dream  no  more. 
Am  I  alive  ?     And  do  I  really  look 
Upon  these  soft  and  sea-blue  eyes  of  thine, 
Wherein  I  half  believe  I  can  espy 
The  riches  of  the  sea  ?     These  dark  rolled  locks  ! 
Oh  God  !  art  Thou  not  glad,  too,  he  is  here !  — 
Where  hast  thou  been  so  long  ?     Never  to  hear, 
Never  to  see,  nor  see  one  who  had  seen  thee  — 
Come,  now,  confess  it  was  not  kind  to  treat 
Me  in  this  manner. 

Festus.  I  confess,  my  love, 

But  I  have  been  where  neither  tongue,  nor  pen, 
Nor  hand  could  give  thee  token  where  I  was ; 
And  seen,  but 't  is  enough !     I  see  thee  now. 
I  would  rather  look  upon  thy  shadow  there,  . 
Than  Heaven's  bright  thrones  for  ever. 

Helen.  Where  hast  been  ? 

Festus.     Say,  am  I  altered  ? 

Helen.  Nowise. 

Festus.  It  is  well. 

Then  in  the  resurrection  we  may  know 
Each  other.     I  have  been  among  the  worlds, 
Angels  and  spirits  bodiless. 

Helen.  Great  God ! 

Can  it  be  so  ? 

Festus.    It  is :  —  and  that  both  here 
And  elsewhere.  When  the  stars  come,  thou  shalt  see 


212  FESTUS. 

The  track  I  travelled  through  the  light  of  night ; 
Where  I  have  been,  and  whence  my  visitors. 

Helen.     And  thou  hast  been  with  angels  all  the 
while, 
And  still  dost  love  me  ? 

Festus.  Constantly  as  now. 

But  for  the  time  I  did  devote  my  soul 
To  their  divine  society,  I  knew 
Thou  wouldst  forgive,  yet  dared  not  trust  myself 
To  see  thee,  or  to  pen  one  word,  for  fear 
Thy  love  should  overpower  the  plan  conceived, 
And  acting,  in  my  mind,  of  visiting 
The  spirits  in  their  space-embosomed  homes. 

Helen.     Forgive  thee  !  'tis  a  deed  which  merita 
love. 
And  should  I  not  be  proud,  too,  who  can  say, 
For  me  he  left  all  angels  ? 

Festus.  I  forethought 

So  thou  wouldst  say ;  but  with  an  offering 
Came  I  provided,  even  with  a  trophy 
Of  love  angelic,  given  me  for  thee  ; 
For  angel  bosoms  know  no  jealousy. 

Helen.     Show  me. 

Festus.  It  is  of  jewels  I  received 

From   one  who   snatched  them  from  the   richest 

wreck 
Of  matter  ever  made,  the  holiest 
And  most  resplendent. 

Helen.  Why,  what  could  it  be  ? 

Jewels  are  baubles  only  ;  whether  pearls 
From  the  sea's  lightless  depths,  or  diamonds 
Culled  from  the  mountain's  crown,  or  chrysolith, 
Cat's  eye,  or  moonstone,  toys  are  they  at  best. 
Jewels  are  not  of  all  things  in  my  sight 
Most  precious. 

Festus.         Nor  in  mine.     It  is  in  the  use 
Of  which  they  may  be  made  their  value  lies ; 
In  the  pure  thoughts  of  beauty  they  call  up, 
And  qualities  they  emblem.     So  in  that 


FESTUS.  213 

Thou  wearest  there,  thy  cross ;  —  to  me  it  is 

Suggestive  of  bright  thoughts  and  hopes  in  Him 

Whose  one  great  sacrifice  availeth  all, 

Living  and  dead,  through  all  Eternity. 

Not  to  the  wanderer  over  southern  seas 

Rises  the  constellation  of  the  Gross 

More  lovelily  o'er  sky  and  calm  blue  wave, 

Than  does  to  me  that  bright  one  on  thy  breast. 

As  diamonds  are  purest  of  all  things, 

And  but  embodied  light  which  fire  consumes 

And  renders  back  to  air,  that  nought  remains,  — 

And  as  the  cross  is  symbol  of  our  creed, 

So  let  that  ornament  signify  to  thee 

The  faith  of  Christ,  all  purity,  all  light, 

Through  fervency  resolving  into  Heaven. 

Each  hath  his  cross,  fair  lady,  on  his  heart. 

Never  may  thine  be  heavier  or  darker 

Than  that  now  on  thy  breast,  so  light  and  bright, 

Rising  and  falling  with  its  bosom-swell. 

Helen.     I  thank  thee  for  that  wish,  and  for  the 
love 
Which  prompts  it  —  the  immeasurable  love 
I  know  is  mine,  and  I  with  none  would  share. 
Forgive  me  ;  I  have  not  yet  felt  my  wings. 
Now  have  I  not  been  patient  ?     Let  me  see 
My  promised  present. 

Festus.  Look,  then — they  are  here  ; 

Bracelets  of  chrysoprase. 

Helen.  Most  beautiful ! 

Festus.     Come,  let  me  clasp  them,  dearest,  on 
thine  arms ; 
For  these  of  those  are  worthy,  and  are  named 
In  the  foundation  stones  of  the  bright  city, 
Which  is  to  be  for  the  immortal  saved, 
Their  last  and  blest  abode  ;  and  such  their  hue, 
The  golden  green  of  paradisal  plains 
Which  lie  about  it  boundlessly,  and  more 
Intensely  tinted  with  the  burning  beauty 
Of  God's  eye,  which  alone  doth  light  that  land, 


214  FESTUS. 

Than  our  earth's  cold  grass-garment  with  the  sun ; 
Though  even  in  the  bright,  hot,  blue-skied  East, 
Where  he  doth  live  the  life  of  light  and  Heaven ; 
Where,  o'er  the  mountains,  at  midday  is  seen 
The  morning  star,  and  the  moon  tans  at  night 
The  cheek  of  careless  sleeper.     Take  them,  love. 
There  are  no  nobler  earthly  ornaments 
Than  jewels  of  the  city  of  the  saved. 

Helen.     But  how  are  these  of  that  bright  city  ?   I 
Am  eager  for  their  history. 

Festus.  They  are 

Thereof  prophetically,  and  have  been  — 
What  I  will  show  thee  presently,  when  I 
Relate  the  story  of  the  angel  who 
Gave  them  to  me. 

Helen.  Well ;  I  will  wait  till  then, 

Or  any  time  thou  choosest :  't  is  enough 
That  I  believe  thee  always ;  —  but  would  know, 
If  not  in  me  too  curious  to  ask, 
How  came  about  these  miracles  ?     Hast  thou  raised 
The  fiend  of  fiends,  and  made  a  compact  dark, 
Sealed  with  thy  blood,  symbolic  of  the  soul, 
Whereby  all  power  is  given  thee  for  a  time, 
All  means,  all  knowledge,  to  make  more  secure 
Thy  spirit's  dread  perdition  at  the  end  ? 
I  of  such  awful  stories  oft  have  heard, 
And  the  unlawful  lore  which  ruins  souls. 
Myself  have  charms,  foresee  events  in  dreams ; 
Can  prophesy,  prognosticate,  know  well 
The  secret  ties  between  many  magic  herbs 
And  mortal  feelings,  nor  condemn  myself 
For  knowing  what  is  innocent ;  but  thou  ! 
Thy  helps  are  mightier  far  and  more  obscure. 
Was  it  with  wand  and  circle,  book  and  scull, 
With  rites  forbid  and  backward-jabbered  prayers, 
In  cross-roads  or  in  churchyard,  at  full  moon, 
And  by  instruction  of  the  ghostly  dead, 
That  thou  hast  wrought  these  wonders,  and  attained 
Such  high  transcendent  powers  and  secrets  ?  Speak ! 


FESTUS.  215 

A 

Or  is  man's  mastery  over  spirits  not 
Of  such  a  vile  and  vulgar  consequence  ? 

Festus.     Were  not  my  heart  as  guiltless  of  all 
mirth 
As  is  the  oracle  of  an  extinct  god 
Of  its  priest-prompted  answer,  I  might  smile 
To  list  such  askings.     Mind's  command  o'er  mind, 
Spirit's  o'er  spirit,  is  the  clear  effect 
And  natural  action  of  an  inward  gift, 
Given  of  God,  whereby  the  incarnate  soul 
Hath  power  to  pass  free  out  of  earth  and  death 
To  immortality  and  Heaven,  and  mate 
With  beings  of  a  kind,  condition,  lot, 
All  diverse  from  his  own.     This  mastery 
Means  but  communion,  the  power  to  quit 
Life's  little  globule  here,  and  coalesce 
With  the  great  mass  about  us.    For  the  rest, 
To  raise  the  Devil  were  an  infant's  task 
To  that  of  raising  man.     Why,  every  one 
Conjures  the  Fiend  from  Hell  into  himself 
When  passion  chokes  or  blinds  him.     Sin  is  Hell. 

Helen.     How  dost  thou  bring  a  spirit  to  thee, 
Festus  ? 

Festus.    It  is  my  will  which  makes  it  visible. 

Helen.     What  are  those  like  whom  thou  hast 
seen? 

Festus.        They  come, 
The  denizens  of  other  worlds,  arrayed 
In  diverse  form  and  feature,  mostly  lovely ; 
In  limb  and  wing  ethereal  finer  far 
Than  an  ephemeris'  pinion  ;  others,  armed 
With  gleaming  plumes,  that  might  o'ercome  an  air 
Of  adamantine  denseness,  pranked  with  fire. 
All  are  of  different  offices  and  strengths, 
Powers,  orders,  tendencies,  in  like  degrees 
As  men,  with  even  more  variety ; 
Of  different  glories,  duties,  and  delights. 
Even  as  the  light  of  meteor,  satellite, 
Planet  and  comet,  sun,  star,  nebula, 


216  FESTUS. 

Differ,  and  nature  also,  so  do  theirs. 

With  them  is  neither  need,  nor  sex,  nor  age, 

Nor  generation,  growth,  decay,  nor  death  ; 

Or  none  whom  I  have  known ;  there  may  be  such. 

Mature  they  are  created  and  complete, 

Or  seem  to  be.     Perfect  from  God  they  come. 

Yet  have  they  different  degrees  of  beauty, 

Even  as  strength  and  holy  excellence. 

Some  seem  of  milder  and  more  feminine 

Nature  than  others,  Beauty's  proper  sex, 

Shown  but  by  softer  qualities  of  soul, 

More  lovable  than  awful,  more  devote 

To  deeds  of  individual  piety, 

And  grace,  than  mighty  missions  fit  to  task 

Sublimest  spirits,  or  the  toil  intense 

Of  cultivating  nations  of  their  kind ; 

Or  working  out  from  the  problem  of  the  world 

The  great  results  of  God,  —  result,  sum,  cause. 

These  ofttimes  charged  with  delegated  powers, 

Formative  or  destructive  ;  those,  in  chief, 

Ordained  to  better  and  to  beautify 

Existence  as  it  is ;  with  careful  love 

To  tend  upon  particular  worlds  or  souls ; 

Warning  and  training  whom  they  love,  to  tread 

The  soft  and  blossom-bordered,  silvery  paths, 

Which  lead  and  lure  the  soul  to  Paradise, 

Making  the  feet  shine  which  do  walk  on  them  ; 

While  each  doth  God's  great  will  alike,  and  both 

With  their  whole  nature's  fulness  love  His  works. 

To  love  them  lifts  the  soul  to  Heaven. 

Helen.  Let  me,  then ! 

Whence  come  they  ? 

Festus.  Many  of  them  come  from  orbs 

Wherein  the  rudest  matter  is  more  worth 
And  fair  than  queenly  gem  ;  the  dullest  dust 
Beneath  their  feet  is  rosy  diamond  :  — 
Others,  direct  from  Heaven  ;  but  all  in  high 
And  serious  love  towards  those  to  whom  they  come. 
None  but  the  blest  are  free  to  visit  where 


FESTUS.  217^ 

They  choose.     The  lost  are  slaves  for  ever  ;  here 

Never  but  on  their  Master's  merciless 

Business,   nor   elsewhere.      Still,   sometimes    with 

these 
Dark  spirits  have  I  held  communion, 
And  in  their  soul's  deep  shadow,  as  within 
A  mountain  cavern  of  the  moon,  conversed 
With  them,  and  wormed  from  them  the  gnawing 

truth 
Of  their  extreme  perdition ;  marking  oft 
Nature  revealed  by  torture,  as  a  leaf 
Unfolds  itself  in  fire  and  writhes  the  while, 
Burning,  yet  unconsumed.     Others  there  are 
Come  garlanded  with  flowers  unwithering, 
Or  crowned  with  sunny  jewels,  clad  in  light, 
And  girded  with  the  lightning,  in  their  hands 
Wands  of  pure  rays  or  arrowy  starbeams ;  some 
Bright  as  the  sun  self-lit,  in  stature  tall, 
Strong,  straight  and  splendid  as  the  golden  reed 
Whereby  the  height,  and  length,  and  breath,  and 

depth, 
Of  the  descendant  city  of  the  skies, 
In  which  God  sometime  shall  make  glad  with  man, 
Were  measured  by  the  angel ;  (the  same  reed 
Wherewith  our  Lord  was  mocked,  that  angel  found 
Close  by  the  Cross  and  took  ;  God  made  it  gold, 
And  now  it  makes  the  sceptre  of  His  Son 
Over  all  worlds  ;   the  sole  bright  rule  of  Heaven, 
The  measure  of  immortal  life,  the  scale 
Of  power,  love,  bliss,  and  glory  infinite)  :  — 
Some  gorgeous  and  gigantic,  who  with  wings 
Wide  as  the  wings  of  armies  in  the  field 
Drawn   out  for   death,   sweep  over  Heaven,  and 

eyes 
Deep,  dark  as  sea-worn  caverns,  with  a  torch 
At  the  end,  far  back,  glaring.     Some  with  wings 
Like  an  unfainting  rainbow,  studded  round 
With  stones  of  every  hue  and  excellence, 
Writ  o'er  with  mystic  words  which  none  may  read, 


218  FESTUS. 

But  those  to  whom  their  spiritual  state 

Gives  correlative  meaning,  fit  thereto. 

Some  of  these  visit  me  in  my  dreams ;  with  some 

Have  I  made  one  in  visions,  in  their  own 

Abodes  of  brightness,  blessedness,  and  power : 

And  know  moreover  I  shall  joy  with  them, 

Ere  long  their  sacred  guest,  through  ages  yet 

To  come,  in  worlds  not  now  perhaps  create, 

As  they  have  been  mine  here :  and  some  of  them 

In  unimaginable  splendors  I 

Have  walked  with  through  their  winged  worlds  of 

light, 
Double  and  triple  particolored  suns, 
And  systems  circling  each  the  other,  clad 
In  tints  of  light  and  air,  whereto  this  earth 
Hath  nothing  like,  and  man  no  knowledge  of:  — 
Orbs  heaped  with  mountains,  to  the  which  ours 

are 
Mere  grave-mounds,  and  their  skies  flowered  with 

stars, 
Violet,  rose  or  pearl-hued,  or  soft  blue, 
Golden  or  green,  the  light  now  blended,  now 
Alternate  ;  many  moons  and  planets,  full, 
Crescent,  or  gibbous-faced,  illumining 
In  periodic  and  intricate  beauty, 
At  once  those  strange  and  most  felicitous  skies. 

Helen.    How  I  should  love  to  visit  other  worlds, 
Or  see  an  angel ! 

Festus.  Wilt  thou  now? 

Helen.  I  dare  not. 

Not  now  at  least.    I  am  not  in  the  mood. 
Ere  I  behold  a  spirit  I  would  pray. 

Festus.     Light  as  a  leaf  thy  seep,  or  arrowy 
Footing  of  breeze  upon  a  waveless  pool ; 
Sudden  and  soft,  too,  like  a  waft  of  light, 
The  beautiful  immortals  come  to  me  ; 
Oh,  ever  lovely,  ever  welcome  they ! 

Helen.    But  why  art  thou,  of  all  men,  favored 
thus? 


FESTUS.  219 

To  say  there  is  a  mystery  in  this, 

Or  aught,  is  only  to  confess  God.     Speak ! 

Festus.    It  is    God's  will  that  I  possess  this 
power, 
Thus  to  attract  great  spirits  to  mine  own, 
As  steel  magnetically  charged  draws  steel ; 
Himself  the  magnet  of  the  universe, 
Round  whom  all  spirits  tremble,  and  towards  whom 
All  tend. 

Helen.     If  as  thou  sayest,  it  is  good  :  — 
May  it  be  an  immortal  good  to  thee. 

Festus.    There  is  no  keeping  back  the  power 
we  have. 
He  hath  no  power  who  hath  not  power  to  use. 
Some  of  these  bodies  whom  I  speak  of  are 
Pure  spirits,  other  bodies  soulical : 
For  spirit  is  to  soul  as  wind  to  air. 
They  give  me  all  I  seek,  and  at  a  wish 
Would  furnish  treasures,  thrones,  or  palaces ; 
But  all  these  things  have  I  eschewed,  and  chosen 
Command  of  mind  alone,  and  of  the  world 
Unbodied  and  all-lovely. 

Helen.  Is  not  this 

Pleasure  too  much  for  mortal  to  be  good  ? 

Festus.    All  pleasure  is  with  Thee,  God !  else- 
where, none. 
Not  silver-ceiled  hall  nor  golden  throne, 
Set  thick  with  priceless  gems,  as  Heaven  with  stars, 
Or  the  high  heart  of  youth  with  its  bright  hopes ;  — 
Nor  marble  gleaming  like  the  white  moonlight, 
As  't  were  an  apparition  of  a  palace 
Inlaid  with  light  as  is  a  waterfall ;  — 
Not  rainbow-pinions  colored  like  yon  cloud, 
The  sun's  broad  banner  o'er  his  western  tent, 
Can  match  the  bright  imaginings  of  a  child 
Upon  the  glories  of  his  coming  years ; 
How  equal,  then,  the  full-assured  faith 
Of  him  to  whom  the  Saviour  hath  vouchsafed 
The  Heaven  of  His  bosom  ?     What  can  tempt 


220  FESTUS. 

In  its  performance  equal  to  that  promise  ? 
My  soul  stands  fast  to  Heaven  as  doth  a  star ; . 
And  only  God  can  move  it  who  moves  all. 
There   are   who   might    have   soared   to   what    I 

spurned  ; 
And  like  to  heavenly  orders  human  souls ; 
Some  fitted  most  for  contemplation,  some 
For  action,  these  for  thrones,  and  those  for  wheels. 
Helen.     Tell  me  what  they  discourse  upon, 

these  angels  ? 
Festus.  They  speak  of  what  is  past  or  coming, 

less 
Of  present  things  or  actions.     Some  say  most 
About  the  future,  others  of  the  gone, 
The  dim  traditions  of  Eternity, 
Or  Time's  first  golden  moments.    One  there  was  — 
From  whose  sweet  lips  elapsed  as  from  a  well, 
Continuously,  truths  which  made  my  soul 
As  they  sank  in  it,  fertile  with  rich  thoughts  — 
Spake  to  me  oft  of  Heaven,  and  our  talk 
Was  of  divine  things  always — angels,  Heaven, 
Salvation,  immortality,  and  God; 
The  different  states  of  spirits  and  the  kinds 
Of  Being  in  all  orbs,  or  physical, 
Or  intellectual.     I  never  tired 
Preferring  questions,  but  at  each  response 
My  soul  drew  back,  sealike,  into  its  depths 
To  urge  another  charge  on  him.     This  spirit 
Came  to  me  daily  for  a  long,  long  time, 
Whene'er  I  prayed  his  presence.     Many  a  world 
He  knew  right  well  which  man's  eye  never  yet 
Hath  marked,  nor  ever  may  mark  while  on  earth  ; 
Yet  grew  his  knowledge  every  time  he  came. 
His  thoughts  all  great  and  solemn  and  serene, 
Like  the  immensest  features  of  an  orb, 
Whose  eyes  are  blue  seas,  and  whose  clear  broad 

brow, 
Some  cultured  continent,  came  ever  round 
From  truth  to  truth  —  day  bringing  as  they  came. 


FESTUS.  221 

He  was  to  me  an  all-explaining  spirit, 

Teaching  divine  things  by  analogy 

With  mortal  and  material.     Thus  of  God, 

He  showed,  as  the  three  primal  rays  make  one 

Sole  beam  of  Light,  so  the  three  Persons  make 

One  God ;  neither  without  the  other  is. 

However  bright  or  beautiful  itself 

The  theme  he  touched,  he  made  it  more  so  by 

His  own  light,  like  a  fire-fly  on  a  flower. 

And  one  of  all  I  knew  the  most  of,  yet 

The  least  can  say  of  him  ;  for  full  oft 

Our  thoughts  drown  speech,  like  to  a  foaming  force. 

Which  thunders  down  the  echo  it  creates. 

Yet  must  I  somewhat  tell  of  him.     He  was 

The  spirit  evil  of  the  universe, 

Impersonate.     Oh,  strange  and  wild  to  know ! 

Perdition  and  destruction  dwelt  in  him, 

Like  to  a  pair  of  eagles  in  one  nest. 

Hollow  and  wasteful  as  a  whirlwind  was 

His  soul ;  his  heart  as  earthquake,  and  engulphed 

World  upon  world.     In  him  they  disappeared 

As  might  a  morsel  in  a  lion's  maw, 

The  world  which  met  him  rolled  aside  to  let  him 

Pass  on  his  piercing  path.     His  eyeballs  burned 

Revolving  lightnings  like  a  world  on  fire  ; 

Their  very  night  was  fatal  as  the  shade 

Of  Death's   dark   valley.     And    his   space-spread 

wings  — 
Wide  as  the  wings  of  Darkness  when  she  rose 
Scowling,  and  backing  upwards,  as  the  sun, 
Giant  of  Light,  first  donned  his  burning  crown, 
Gladdening  all  Heaven  with  his  inaugural  smile,  — 
Were  stained  with  the  blood  of  many  a  starry  world : 
Yea,  I  have  seen  him  seize  upon  an  orb, 
And  cast  it  careless  into  worldless  space, 
As  I  might  cast  a  pebble  in  the  sea. 
His  might  upon  this  earth  was  wondrous  most. 
He  stood  a  match  for  mountains.     Ocean's  depths 
He  clove  unto  their  rock-bed,  as  a  sword, 


222  FESTUS. 

Through  blood  and  muscle  to  the  central  bone, 
With  one  swoop  of  his  arm.     His  brow  was  pale  — 
Pale  as  the  life-blood  of  the  undying  worm 
Which  writhes  around  its  frame  of  vital  fire. 
His  voice  blew  like  the  desolating  gust 
Which  strips  the  trees,  and  strews  the  earth  with 

death. 
His  words  were  ever  like  a  wheel  of  fire, 
Rolling  and  burning  this  way  now,  now  that : 
Now  whirling  forth  a  blinding  beam,  now  soft 
And  deep  as  Heaven's  own  luminous  blue  —  and 

now 
Like  to  a  conqueror's  chariot  wheel  they  came, 
Sodden  with  blood  and  slow,  revolving  death  : 
And  every  tone  fell  on  the  ear  and  heart, 
Heavy  and  harsh  and  startling,  like  the  first 
Handful  of  mould  cast  on  the  coffined  dead, 
As  though  he  claimed  them  his. 

Lucifer  entering.  Dost  recognize 

The  portrait,  lady  ? 

Helen.  Festus  !  who  is  this  ? 

What  portrait  ?  — 

Festus.     Wherefore  comest  thou  ?     Did  I  not 
Claim  privacy  one  evening  ? 

Lucifer.  Why,  indeed  — 

I  simply  called,  as  I  was  on  my  way 
To  Jupiter  —  and  he 's  a  mouthful,  mind  ;  — 
To  keep  the  proverbs,  too,  in  countenance. 
Any  commands  for  our  planetary  friends  ? 
I  go.     Make  my  excuses!  ~^Goes. 

Festus.  A  mistake, 

Dearest ;  but  rectified.    [Apart.]    And  he  is  gone  ! 
Hell  hath  its  own  again.     Some  sorrow  chills 
Ever  the  spirit,  like  a  cloudlet  nursed 
In  the  star-giant's  bosom. 

Helen.  Tell  me,  love, 

More  of  these  angels  ! 

Festus.  There  was  one  I  loved 

Of  those  immortals,  of  a  lofty  air, 


FESTUS.  223 

Dimly  divine  and  sad,  and  side  by  side 

Him  whom  I  spake  of  first  she  oft  would  stand 

With  her  fair  form  —  shadow  illuminate  — 

Like  to  the  dark  moon  in  the  young  one's  arms. 

She  never  murmured  at  the  doom  which  made 

The  sorrow  that  contained  her,  as  the  air 

Infolds  the  orb  whereon  we  dwell,  but  spake 

Of  God's  will  alway  as  most  good  and  wise. 

She  had  but  little  pleasure ;  but  her  all, 

Such  as  it  was,  was  in  devising  plans 

Of  bliss  to  come,  or  in  the  tales  of  Time 

And  the  sweet  early  earth.     She  was,  in  truth, 

Our  earth's  own  angel.     Ofttimes  would  she  dwell 

With  long  and  luminous  sweetness  on  her  theme, 

Unwearying,  unpausing,  as  a  world. 

The  sun  would  rise  and  set ;  the  soul-like  moon, 

In  passive  beauty  and  receptive  light,  — 

Absorbing  inspiration  from  the  sun, 

As  doth  from  God  His  prophet  ceaselessly  — 

She  too  would  rise  and  set ;  and  the  far  stars, 

The  third  estate  of  Light,  complete  the  round 

Of  the  divine  day ;  —  still  our  angel  spake, 

And  still  I  listened  to  the  eloquent  tongue 

Which  e'en  on  earth  retained  the  tone  of  Heaven. 

The  shadow  of  a  cloud  upon  a  lake, 

O'er  which  the  wind  hath  all  day  held  his  breath, 

Is  not  more  calm  and  fair  than  her  dear  face  — 

So  sweetly  sad  and  so  consolingly, 

When  she  spake  even  on  the  end  of  earth. 

Save  that  her  eye  grew  darker,  and  her  brow 

Brighter  with  thought,  as  with  galactic  light 

Mid  Heaven  when  clearest,  —  at  such  times,  not  I 

Had  known  that  earth  were  dearer  unto  her 

Than  other  of  the  visitants  divine, 

Which   hallow   oft  mine  hours ;  —  save,  too,  that 

then, 
As  though  to  touch  but  on  that  topic  had, 
Torpedo-like,  numbed  thought,  she  would  straight 

cease 


224  FESTUS. 

All  converse  suddenly,  and  kneel  and  seem 
Inwardly  praying  with  much  power,  —  rise, 
And  vanish  into  Heaven.     My  mind  is  full 
Of  stories  she  hath  told  me  of  our  world. 
No  word  an  angel  utters  lose  I  ever. 
One  I  will  tell  thee  now. 

Helen.  Do  !  let  me  hear  ! 

Thy  talk  is  the  sweet  extract  of  all  speech, 
And  holds  mine  ear  in  blissful  slavery. 

Festus.     'Twas  on  a  lovely  summer  afternoon, 
Close  by  the  grassy  marge  of  a  deep  tarn, 
Nigh  halfway  up  a  mountain,  that  we  stood, 
I  and  the  angel,  when  she  told  me  this. 
Above  us  rose  the  gray  rocks,  by  our  side 
Forests  of  pines,  and  the  bright  breaking  wavelets 
Came  crowding,  dancing  to  the  brink,  like  thoughts 
Unto  our  lips.     Before  us  shone  the  sun. 
The  angel  waved  her  hand  ere  she  began, 
As  bidding  earth  be  still.     The  birds  ceased  sing- 
ing 
And  the  trees  breathing,  and  the  lake  smoothed 

down 
Each  shining  wrinkle,  and  the  wind  drew  off. 
Tune   leaned  him   o'er   his  scythe  and,  listening, 

wept. 
The  circling  world  reined  in  her  lightning  pace 
A  moment ;  Ocean  hushed  his  snow-maned  steeds, 
And  a  cloud  hid  the  sun,  as  does  the  face 
A  meditative  hand  :  then  spake  she  thus  :  — 
Scarce  had  the  sweet  song  of  the  morning  stars, 
Which  rang  through  space  at  the  first  sign  of  life 
Our  earth  gave,  springing  from  the  lap  of  God 
On  to  her  orbit,  when  from  Heaven 
Came  down  a  white-winged  host ;  and  in  the  east, 
Where   Eden's   Pleasance   was,   first  furled  their 

wings, 
Alighting  like  to  snowflakes.     There  they  built, 
Out  of  the  riches  of  the  soil  around, 
A  house  to  God.     There  were  the  ruby  rocks, 


FESTUS.  225 

And  there,  in  blocks,  the  quarried  diamonds  lay ; 
Opal  and  emerald  mountain,  amethyst, 
Sapphire  and  chrysoprase,  and  jacinth  stood 
With  the  still  action  of  a  star,  all  light, 
Like   sea-based   icebergs,  blinding.      These,   with 

tools 
Tempered  in  Heaven,  the  band  angelic  wrought, 
And  raised,  and  fitted,  having  first  laid  down 
The  deep  foundations  of  the  holy  dome 
On  bright  and  beaten  gold;  and  all  the  while 
A  song  of  glory  hovered  round  the  work 
Like  rainbow  round  a  fountain.     Day  and  night 
Went  on  the  hallowed  labor  till  't  was  done. 
And  yet  but  thrice  the  sun  set,  and  but  thrice 
The  moon  arose  ;  so  quick  is  work  divine. 
Tower,  and  roof,  and  pinnacle,  without, 
Were  solid  diamond.     Within,  the  dome 
Was  eyeblue  sapphire,  sown  with  gold-bright  stars 
And  clustering  constellations ;  the  wide  floor 
All  emerald,  earthlike,  veined  with  gold  and  silver, 
Marble  and  mineral  of  every  hue 
And  marvellous  quality,  the  meanest  thing, 
Where  all  things  were  magnificent,  was  gold,  — 
The  plainest.     The  high  altar  there  was  shaped 
Out  of  one  ruby  heartlike.-    Columned  round 
With  alabaster  pure  was  all.     And  now 
So  high  and  bright  it  shone  in  the  midday  light, 
It  could  be  seen  from  Heaven.    Upon  their  thrones 
The  sun-eyed  angels  hailed  it,  and  there  rose 
A  hurricane  of  blissfulness  in  Heaven, 
Which  echoed  for  a  thousand  years.     One  dark, 
One  solitary  and  foreseeing  thought, 
Passed,  like  a  planet's  transit  o'er  the  sun, 
Across  the  brow  of  God;  but  soon  he  smiled 
Towards  earth,  and  that  smile  did  consecrate 
The  temple  to  Himself.     And  they  who  built 
Bowed   themselves   down   and   worshipped   in   its 

walls. 
High  on  the  front  were  writ  these  words  —  to  God 
15 


226  FESTUS. 

The  heavenly  built  this  for  the  earthly  ones, 
That  in  his  worship  both  might  mix  on  earth, 
As  afterward  they  hoped  to  do  in  Heaven. 
Had  man  stood  good  in  Eden  this  had  been  : 
He  fell  and  Eden  vanished.     The  bright  place 
"Reared  by  the  angels  of  all  precious  things, 
For  the  joint  worship  of  the  sons  of  earth 
And  Heaven,  fell  with  him,  on  the  very  day 
He  should  have  met  God  and  His  angels  there  — 
The  very  day  he  disobeyed  and  joined 
The  host  of  death  black-bannered.     Eden  fell ; 
The  groves   and  grounds,  which   God  the  Lord's 

own  feet 
Had  hallowed  ;  the  all-hued  and  odorous  bowers 
Where  angels  wandered,  wishing  them  in  Heaven ; 
The  trees  of  life  and  knowledge  —  trees  of  death 
And  madness,  as  they  proved  to  man  —  all  fell ; 
And  that  bright  fane  fell  first.     No  death-doomed 

eye 
Gazed  on  its  glory.     Earthquakes  gulped  it  down. 
The  Temple  of  the  Angels,  vast  enough 
To  hold  all  nations  worshipping  at  once, 
Lay  in  its  grave  ;  the  cherubs'  naming  swords 
The  sole  sad  torches  of  its  funeral. 
Till  at  the  flood,  when  the  world's  giant  heart 
Burst  like  a  shell,  it  scattered  east  and  west, 
And  far  and  wide,  among  less  noble  ruins, 
The  fragments  of  that  angel-builded  fane, 
Which  was  in  Eden,  and  of  which  all  stones 
That  now  are  precious,  were  ;  and  still  shall  be, 
Gathered  again  unto  a  happier  end, 
In  the  pure  City  of  the  Son  of  God, 
And  temple  yet  to  be  rebuilt  in  Zion ; 
WThich,  though  once  overthrown,  and  once  again 
Torn  down  to  its  foundations,  in  the  quick 
Of  earth,  shall  soul-like  yet  re-rise  from  ruin  — 
High,  holy,  happy,  stainless  as  a  star, 
Imperishable  as  eternity. 
—  The  angel  ended ;  and  the  winds,  waves,  clouds, 


FESTUS.  227 

The  sun,  the  woods,  the  merry  birds  went  on 
As  theretofore,  in  brightness,  strength  and  music. 
One  scarce  could  think  that  earth  at  all  had  fallen, 
To  look  upon  her  beauty.     If  the  brand 
Of  sin  were  on  her  brow,  it  was  surely  hid 
In  natural  art  from  every  eye  but  God's. 
All  things  seemed  innocence  and  happiness. 
I  was  all  thanks.     And  look  !  the  angel  said, 
Take  these,  and  give  to  one  thou  lovest  best : 
Mine  own  hands  saved  from  them  the  shining  ruin 
Whereof  I  have  late  told  thee  ;  and  she  gave 
What  now  are  greenly  glowing  on  thine  arms. 
Ere  I  could  answer,  she  was  up,  star-high ! 
Winging  her  way  through  Heaven ! 

Helen.  How  shall  I  thank  thee 

Enough,  or  that  kind  angel  who  hath  made 
The  gift  to  me  dear  doubly  ?     I  shall  be 
Afraid  almost  to  wear  them,  but  would  not 
Part  with  them  for  the  treasures  of  all  worlds. 
How  show  my  thanks  ? 

Festus.  Love  me  as  now,  dear  beauty ! 

Present  or  absent  always,  and  't  will  be 
More  than  enough  of  recompense  for  me. 

Helen.     Hast  met  that  angel  late-while  ? 

Festus.  I  have  not. 

Yet  oft  methinks  I  see  her,  catch  a  glimpse. 
Of  her  sun-circling  pinions  or  bright  feet, 
Which  fitter  seem  for  rainbows  than  for  earth, 
Or  Heaven's  triumphal  arch,  more  firm  and  pure 
Than  the  world's  whitest  marble ;  —  see  her  seated 

oft 
On  some  high  snowy  cloud-cliff,  harp  in  hand, 
Singing  the  sun  to  sleep  as  down  he  lays 
His  head,  of  glory  on  the  rocking  deep  : 
And  so  sing  thou  to  me. 

Helen.  There,  rest  thyself.   [Sings, 

Oh  !  not  the  diamond  starry  bright 
Can  so  delight  my  view? 


228  FESTUS. 

As  doth  the  moonstone's  changing  light 

And  gleamy  glowing  hue  ; 
Now  blue  as  Heaven,  and  then  anon 

As  golden  as  the  sun, 
It  hath  a  charm  in  every  change  — 

In  brightening,  darkening,  one. 

And  so  with  beauty,  so  with  love, 

And  everlasting  mind ; 
It  takes  a  tint  from  Heaven  above, 

And  shines  as  it 's  inclined ; 
Or  from  the  sun,  or  towards  the  sun, 

With  blind  or  brilliant  eye, 
And  only  lights  as  it  reflects 

The  life-light  of  the  sky. 

He  sleeps !     The  fate  of  many  a  gracious  moral 
This,  to  be  stranded  on  a  drowsy  ear. 


Scene  —  Home.    Festus,  and  Helen  at  her 
Piano.  —  Dusk. 

Helen.    I  cannot  live  away  from  thee.     How 
can 
A  flower  live  without  its  root  ? 

Festus.  I,  too, 

Must  love  or  die. 

Helen.  But  I  must  have.     Attend ! 

I  am  to  say  and  do  just  as  I  please  ; 
I  may  command  thee,  may  I  ?  that  I  will. 

Festus.     I  love  to  be  enslaved.     Oh !  I  would 
rather 
Obey  thee,  beauty  !  than  rule  men  by  millions. 

Helen.    Near,  as  afar,  I  will  have  love  the 
same  — 
With  a  bright  sameness,  like  this  diamond, 
Which,  wherever  the  light  be,  shines  like  bright. 
And  thou  shalt  say  all  sorts  of  pretty  things 
To  me :  mind,  to  me  only  :  write  love-songs 


About  me,  and  I  will  sing  them  to  myself; 
Perhaps  to  thee,  sometime,  as  it  were  now, 
If  I  should  happen  to  be  very  kind. 

Festus.     Sing  now ! 

Helen.  No  ! 

Festus.  Tyrant !  I  will  banish  thee. 

Helen.    Nay,  if  to  sing  and  play  would  please 
thee,  I 
Would  die  to  music.     It  was  very  wrong 
To  say  I  would  deny  thee  any  thing ; 
But  be  not  angry  with  me  :  for  though  God 
Forgave  me,  I  could  ne'er  forgive  myself, 
If  I  brought  sorrow  to  thee,  could  I  love  ? 

Festus.     As  thou  art  empress  of  my  bosom,  No ! 

Helen.     Nought  fear  I  but  an   unkind   word 
from  thee. 
Dark  death  may  frighten  children,  Hell  the  wretch 
Who  feels  that  he  deserves  it ;  but  for  me, 
I  know  I  cannot  do  nor  say  aught  worthy 
Of  the  pure  pain  a  frown  of  thine  can  cause, 
Or  a  cold,  careless  look.     No !  never  frown. 
If  I  do  wrong,  forgive  me,  or  I  die ; 
And  thou  wilt  then  be  wretcheder  than  I;  — 
The  unforgiving  than  the  unforgiven. 

Festus.     I  do  absolve  thee,  beauty,  of  all  faults, 
Past,  present,  or  to  come. 

Helen.  Well,  that  will  do. 

What  was  I  saying  ?     I  love  this  instrument, 
It  speaks,  it  thinks  —  nay,  I  could  kiss  it :  look  ! 
There  are  three  things  I  love  half  killingly ;  — 
Thee  lastly,  and  this  next,  and  myself  first. 

Festus.   Thou  art  a  silly,  tiresome  thing,  and  yet 
I  never  weary  of  thee  ;  but  could  gaze, 
Sick  with  excess  and  not  satiety, 
Upon  thy  countenance,  with  the  serious  joy 
With  which  we  eye  and  eye  the  unbounded  space 
Which  is  the  visible  attribute  of  God, 
Who  makes  all  things  within  Himself;  and  thus 
It  is  the  Heaven  we  hope  for,  and  can  find 


230  FESTUS. 

No  point  from  which  to  take  its  altitude ; 
For  the  Infinite  is  upwards,  and  above 
The  highest  thing  created  —  upwards  aye  : 
So  I  could,  thinking  on  thy  face,  believe 
An  infinite  expression,  heightening  still 
The  longer  that  I  thought,  and  leaving  thee, 
Coming  to  thee,  or  being  with  thee, —  love  ! 

Helen.     I  am  so  happy  when  with  thee. 

Festus.  And  I. 

They  tell  us  virtue  lies  in  self-denial. 
My  virtue  is  indulgence.     I  was  born 
To  gratify  myself  unboundedly, 
So  that  I  wronged  none  else.     These  arms  were 

given  me 
To  clasp  the  beautiful,  and  cleave  the  wave  ; 
These  limbs  to  leap  and  wander  where  I  will ; 
These  eyes  to  look  on  every  thing  without 
Effort ;  these  ears  to  list  my  loved  one's  voice  ; 
These  lips  to  be  divinized  by  her  kiss : 
And  every  sense,  pulse,  passion,  power,  to  be 
Swoln  into  sunny  ripeness. 

Helen.  Virtue  is  one 

With  nature,  or 't  is  nothing :  it  is  love. 

Festus.    I  come  fresh  from  thee  every  time  we 
meet, 
Steeped  in  the  still  sweet  dew  of  thy  soft  beauty, 
Like  earth  at  day-dawn,  lifting  up  her  head 
Out  of  her  sleep,  starwatched,  to  face  the  sun  — 
So  I,  to  front  the  world,  on  leaving  thee. 
Oh  !  there  is  inspiration  in  thy  look  ; 
Poesie,  prophecy.     Come  hither,  love  ; 
The  evening  air  is  sweet. 

Helen.  It  comes  on  us 

Fresher   and  clearer    through   these    dewy  vine- 
leaves, 
Fit  for  the  forehead  of  the  young  wine-god. 

Festus.    A  large,  red  egg  of  light  the  moon  lies 
like 
On  the  dark  moor-hill,  and  now,  rising  slow, 


FESTUS.  231 

Beams  on  the  clear  flood,  smilingly  intent, 
Like  a  fair  face,  which  loves  to  look  on  itself, 
Saying  — '  there  is  no  wonder  that  men  love  me, 
For  I  am  beautiful  V  —  as  I  heard  thee. 

Helen.     It  was  not  right  to  overhear  me  that. 

Festus.     'T  was  very  wrong  to  do  what  I  could 
not  help ; 
But  vanity  speaks  out. 

Helen.  Well,  I  don 't  mind ; 

I  never  knew  that  I  was  as  I  am 
Till  others  told  me. 

Festus.  Now  were  soon  enough. 

Helen.     Ah,  nothing  comes  to  us  too  soon  but 
sorrow. 

Festus.   For  all  were  happiness,  if  all  might  live 
Long,  or  die  soon,  enough :  for  even  us. 

Helen.  Dost  not  remember,  when,  the  other  eve, 
Thy  friend  the  student  called,  there  was  a  tale 
Upon  thy  tongue  he  interrupted  ? 

Festus.  Was  there  ?  — 

Helen.     A  tale  out  of  the  poets,  about  love, 
And  happiness,  and  sorrow,  and  such  things. 

Festus.    But  I  forget  such  things  when  thou  art 

Besides,  I  asked  him  here  again,  to-night, 
Here,  at  this  hour ;  and  he  is  punctual. 

Helen.     In  truth,  then,  I  despair  of  hearing  it. 
He  keeps  his  word  relentlessly.     With  not 
More  pride  an  Indian  shows  his  foeman's  scalp 
Than  he  his  watch  for  punctuality. 

Festus.     But  tales  of  love  are  far  more  readily 
Made  than  remembered. 

Helen.  Tell-tale,  make  one,  then. 

Festus.     Love  is  the  art  of  hearts  and  heaor:  of 
arts. 
Conjunctive  looks  and  interjection al  sighs 
Are  its  vocabulary's  greater  half. 
Well,  then,  my  story  says,  there  was  a  pair 
Of  lovers,  once  — 


232  FESTUS. 

Helen.  Once  !  nay,  how  singular ! 

Festus.     But  where  they  lived,  indeed,  I  quite 
forget ;  — 
Say  anywhere  —  say  here :  their  names  were  —  I 
Forget  those,  too ;  say  any  one's,  say  ours. 

Helen.     Most  probable,  most  pertinent,  so  far ! 

Festus.   The  lady  was,  of  course,  most  beautiful 
And  made  her  lover  do  just  as  she  pleased ; 
And  consequently  he  did  very  wrong. 
They  met,  sang,  walked,  talked  folly,  just  as  all 
Such  couples  do,  adored  each  other ;  thought, 
Spoke,  wrote,  dreamed  of  and  for  nought  on  earth 
Except  themselves ;  and  so  on. 

Helen.  Pray  proceed !  — ■ 

Festus.     That's  all ; 

Helen.  Oh,  no ! 

Festus.  Well,  thus  the -tale  ends  ;  stay! 

No,  I  cannot  remember  nor  invent. 

Helen.     Do  think ! 

Festus.  I  can't. 

Helen.  Oh  then,  I  don't  like  that 

'Tis  not  in  earnest. 

Festus.     Well,  in  earnest,  then. 
She  did  but  look  upon  him,  and  his  blood 
Blushed  deeper  even  from  his  inmost  heart ; 
For  at  each  glance  of  those  sweet  eyes  a  soul 
Looked  forth  as  from  the  azure  gates  of  Heaven ; 
She  laid  her  finger  on  him,  and  he  felt 
As  might  a  formless  mass  of  marble  feel 
While  feature  after  feature  of  a  god 
Were  being  wrought  from  out  of  it.     She  spake, 
And  his  love-wildered  and  idolatrous  soul 
Clung  to  the  airy  music  of  her  words, 
Like  a  bird  on  a  bough,  high  swaying  in  the  wind. 
He  looked  upon  her  beauty  and  forgot, 
As  in  a  sense  of  drowning,  all  things  else ; 
And  right  and  wrong  seemed  one,  seemed  nothing ; 

she 
Was  beauty,  and  that  beauty  every  thing. 


FESTUS.  233 

He  looked  upon  her  as  the  sun  on  earth : 

Until,  like  him,  he  gazed  himself  away 

From  Heaven  so  doing ;  till  he  even  wept,  — ■ 

Wept  on  her  bosom  as  a  storm-charged  cloud 

Weeps  itself  out  upon  a  hill,  and  cried  — 

I,  too,  could  look  on  thee  until  I  wept,  — 

Blind  me  with  kisses !  let  me  look  no  longer ; 

Or  change  the  action  of  thy  loveliness, 

Lest  long  same-seemingness  should  send  me  mad !  — 

Blind  me  with  kisses ;  I  would  ruin  sight 

To  give  its  virtue  to  thy  lips,  whereon 

I  would  die  now,  or  ever  live ;  and  she, 

Soft  as  a  feather-footed  cloud  on  Heaven, 

While  her  sad  face  grew  bright  like  night  with  stars, 

Would  turn  her  brow  to  his,  and  both  be  happy ;  — 

Numbered  among  the  constellations  they !  — 

Then  as  tired  wanderer,  snow-blinded,  sinks 

And  swoons  upon  the  swelling  drift,  and  dies, 

So  on  her  dazzling  bosom  would  he  lay 

His  famished  lips,  and  end  their  travels  there, 

Oh,  happy  they  !  not  he  would  go  to  Heaven, 

Not,  though  he  might  that  moment. 

Helen.  Nor  I  now. 

Festus.     Helen,  my  love  ! 

Helen.  Yes,  I  am  here. 

Festus.  It  has 

Been  such  a  day  as  that,  thou  knowest,  when  first 
I  said  I  loved  thee ;  that  long,  sunny  day 
We  passed  upon  the  waters  —  heeding  nought, 
Seeing  nought  but  each  other. 

Helen.  I  remember. 

The  only  wise  thing  that  I  ever  did  — 
The  only,  good,  was  to  love  thee,  and  therefore 
I  would  have  no  one  else  as  wise  as  I. 
Didst  thou  not  say  that  student  would  be  here  ? 

Festus.    I  think  I  hear  him  every  minute  come. 

Helen.   It  is  not  kind.  We  should  be  more  alone. 
There  was  a  time  thou  wouldst  have  no  one  else. 

Festus.    Am  I  not  with  thee  all  day  ? 


234  FESTUS. 

Helen.  Yes,  I  know  ; 

But  often  and  often  thou  art  thinking  not 
Of  me. 

Festus.    My  good  child  !  — 

Helen.  Well,  I  know  thou  lovest  me ; 

And  so  I  cannot  bear  thee  to  think,  speak, 
Or  be  with  any  but  me. 

Festus.  Then  I  will  not. 

Helen.     Oh,  thou  wouldst  promise  me  the  clock 
round.     Now, 
Promise  me  this  —  that  I  shall  never  die, 
And  I  '11  believe  thee  when  I  am  dead  —  not  till. 
But  let  it  pass.     I  am  at  peace  with  thee  ; 
And  pardon  thee,  and  give  thee  leave  to  live. 

Festus.     Magnanimous ! 

Helen.  When  earth,  and  Heaven,  and  all 

Things  seem  so  bright  and  lovely  for  our  sakes, 
It  is  a  sin  not  to  be  happy.     See, 
The  moon  is  up,  it  is  the  dawn  of  night. 
Stands  by  her  side  one  bold,  bright,  steady  star  — 
Star  of  her  heart,  and  heir  to  all  her  light, 
Whereon  she  looks  so  proudly  mild  and  calm, 
As  though  she  were  the  mother  of  that  star, 
And  knew  he  was  a  chief  sun  in  his  sphere, 
But  by  her  side,  in  the  great  strife  of  lights 
To  shine  to  God,  he  had  filially  failed, 
And  hid  his  arrows  and  his  bow  of  beams. 
Mother  of  stars  !  the  Heavens  look  up  to  thee. 
They  shine  the  brighter  but  to  hide  thy  waning  ■ 
They  wait  and  wane  for  thee  to  enlarge  thy  beauty , 
They  give  thee  all  their  glory  night  by  night ; 
Their  number  makes  not  less  thy  loneliness 
Nor  loveliness. 

Festus.  Heaven's  beauty  grows  on  us; 

And  when  the  elder  worlds  have  ta'en  their  seats, 
Come  the  divine  ones,  gathering  one  by  one, 
And  family  by  family,  with  still 
And  holy  air,  into  the  house  of  God  — 
The  house  of  light  He  hath  builded  for  Himself — 


FESTUS.  235 

And  worship  Him  in  silence  and  in  sadness, 
Immortal  and  immovable.     And  there, 
Night  after  night,  they  meet  to  worship  God. 
For  us  this  witness  of  the  worlds  is  given, 
That  we  may  add  ourselves  to  their  great  glory, 
And  worship  with  them.     They  are  there  for  lights 
To  light  us  on  our  way  through  Heaven  to  God ; 
And  we,  too,  have  the  power  of  light  in  us. 
Ye  stars,  how  bright  ye  shine  to  night ;  mayhap 
Ye  are  the  resurrection  of  the  worlds,  — 
Glorified  globes  of  light !    Shall  ours  be  like  ye  ? 
Nay,  but  it  is  !  this  wild,  dark  earth  of  ours, 
Whose  face  is  furrowed  like  a  losing  gamester's, 
Is  shining  round,  and  bright,  and  smooth  in  air, 
Millions  of  miles  off.     Not  a  single  path 
Of  thought  I  tread,  but  that  it  leads  to  God. 
And  when  her  time  is  out,  and  earth  again 
Hath  travailed  with  the  divine  dust  of  man, 
Then  the  world's  womb  shall  open,  and  her  sons 
Be  born  again,  all  glorified  immortals. 
And  she,  their  mother,  purified  by  fire, 
Shall  sit  her  down  in  Heaven,  a  bride  of  God, 
And  handmaid  of  the  ever-being  One. 
Our  earth  is  learning  all  accomplishments 
To  fit  her  for  her  bridehood. 

Helen.  He  is  here. 

Festus.     Welcome. 

Student.     I  thought  the  night  was  beautiful, 
But  find  the  in-door  scene  still  lovelier. 

Helen.     Ah !  all  is  beautiful  where  beauty  is. 

Student.     Night  hath  made  many  bards  ;  she 
is  so  lovely. 
For  it  is  beauty  makcth  poesie, 
As  from  the  dancing  eye  comes  tears  of  light. 
Night  hath  made  many  bards ;  she  is  so  lovely. 
And  they  have  praised  her  to  her  starry  face 
So  long,  that  she  hath  blushed  and  left  them,  often. 
When  first  and  last  we  met,  we  talked  on  studies : 
Poetry  only  I  confess  is  mine, 


236  FESTUS. 

And  is  the  only  thing  1  think  or  read  of:  — 

Feeding  my  soul  upon  the  soft,  and  sweet, 

And  delicate  imaginings  of  song ; 

For  as  nightingales  do  upon  glowworms  feed, 

So  poets  live  upon  the  living  light 

Of  nature  and  of  beauty ;  they  love  light. 

Festus.     But  poetry  is  not  confined  to  books. 
For  the  creative  spirit  which  thou  seekest 
Is  in  thee,  and  about  thee ;  yea,  it  hath 
God's  everywhereness. 

Student.  Truly.     It  was  for  this 

I  sought  to  know  thy  thoughts,  and  hear  the  course 
Thou  wouldst  lay  out  for  one  who  longs  to  win 
A  name  among  the  nations. 

Festus.  First  of  all, 

Care  not  about  the  name,  but  bind  thyself, 
Body  and  soul,  to  nature,  hiddenly. 
Lo,  the  great  march  of  stars  from  earth  to  earth, 
Through    Heaven.     The    earth    speaks    inwardly 

alone. 
Let  no  man  know  thy  business,  save  some  friend, — 
A  man  of  mind,  above  the  run  of  men ; 
For  it  is  with  all  men  and  with  all  things. 
The  bard  must  have  a  kind,  courageous  heart, 
And  natural  chivalry  to  aid  the  weak. 
He  must  believe  the  best  of  every  thing ; 
Love  all  below,  and  worship  all  above. 
All  animals  are  living  hieroglyphs. 
The  dashing  dog,  and  stealthy-stepping  cat,     [more 
Hawk,  bull,  and  all  that  breathe,  mean  something 
To  the  true  eye  than  their  shapes  show ;  for  all 
Were  made  in  love,  and  made  to  be  beloved. 
Thus  must  he  think  as  to  earth's  lower  life, 
Who  seeks  to  win  the  world  to  thought  and  love, 
As  doth  the  bard,  whose  habit  is  all  kindness 
To  every  thing. 

Helen.  I  love  to  hear  of  such. 

Could  we  but  think  with  the  intensity 
We  love  with,  we  might  do  great  things,  I  think. 


FESTUS.  237 

Festus.     Kindness  is  wisdom.     There  is  none 
in  life 
But  needs  it  and  may  learn  ;  eye-reasoning  man, 
And  spirit  unassisted,  unobscured. 

Student.    Go  on,  I  pray.  I  came  to  be  informed. 
Thou  knowest  my  ambition,  and  I  joy 
To  feel  thou  feedest  it  with  purest  food. 

Festus.    I  cannot  tell  thee  all  I  feel ;  and  know 
But  little  save  myself,  and  am  not  ashamed 
To  say,  that  I  have  studied  my  own  life, 
And  know  it  is  like  to  a  tear-blistered  letter, 
Which  holdeth  fruit  and  proof  of  deeper  feeling 
Than  the  poor  pen  can  utter,  or  the  eye 
Discover ;  and  that  often  my  heart's  thoughts 
Will  rise  and  shake  my  breast,  as  madmen  shake 
The  stanchions  of  their  dungeons,  and  howl  out. 

Helen.     But  thou  wast  telling  us  of  poesie, 
And  the  kind  nature-hearted  bards. 

Festus.  I  was. 

I  knew  one  once — he  was  a  friend  of  mine ; 
I  knew  him  well ;  his  mind,  habits,  and  works, 
Taste,  temper,  temperament,  and  every  thing ; 
Yet  with  as  kind  a  heart  as  ever  beat, 
He  was  no  sooner  made   than   marred.     Though 

young, 
He  wrote  amid  the  ruins  of  his  heart ; 
They  were  his  throne  and  theme ;  —  like  some  lone 

king, 
Who  tells  the  story  of  the  land  he  lost, 
And  how  he  lost  it. 

Student.  Tell  us  more  of  him. 

Helen.    Nay,  but  it  saddens  thee. 

Festus.  'Tis  like  enough; 

We  slip  away  like  shadows  into  shade ; 
We  end,  and  make  no  mark  we  had  begun ; 
We  come  to  nothing,  like  a  pure  intent. 
When  we  have  hoped,  sought,  striven,  and  lost  our 

aim, 
Then  the  truth  fronts  us,  beaming  out  of  darkness, 


238  FESTUS. 

Like    a  white    brow,    through    its    overshadowing 

hair — 
As  though  the  day  were  overcast,  my  Helen  ! 
But  I  was  speaking  of  my  friend.     He  was 
Quick,  generous,  simple,  obstinate  in  end, 
High-hearted  from  his  youth ;  his  spirit  rose 
In  many  a  glittering  fold  and  gleamy  crest, 
Hydra-like  to  its  hinderance  ;  mastering  all, 
Save  one  thing  —  love,  and  that  out-hearted  him. 
Nor  did  he  think  enough,  till  it  was  over, 
How  bright  a  thing  he  was  breaking,  or  he  would 
Surely  have  shunned  it,  nor  have  let  his  life 
Be  pulled  to  pieces  like  a  rose  by  a  child ; 
And  his  heart's  passions  made  him  oft  do  that 
Which  made  him  writhe  to  think  on  what  he  had 

done, 
And  thin  his  blood  by  weeping  at  a  night. 
If  madness  wrought  the  sin,  the  sin  wrought  mad- 
ness, 
And  made  a  round  of  ruin.     It  is  sad 
To  see  the  light  of  beauty  wane  away, 
Know  eyes  are  dimming,  bosom  shrivelling,  feet 
Losing  their  spring,  and  limbs  their  lily  roundness ; 
But  it  is  worse  to  feel  our  heart-spring  gone, 
To  lose  hope,  care  not  for  the  coming  thing, 
And  feel  all  things  go  to  decay  with  us, 
As  'twere  our  life's  eleventh  month  :  and  yet 
All  this  he  went  through  young. 

Helen.  Poor  soul !  I  should 

Have  loved  him  for  his  sorrows. 

Festus.  It  is  not  love 

Brings  sorrow,  but  love's  objects. 

Student.  Then  he  loved. 

Festus.    I  said  so.    I  have  seen  him  when  he 
hath  had 
A  letter  from  his  lady  dear,  he  blessed 
The  paper  that  her  hand  had  travelled  over, 
And  her  eye  looked  on,  and  would  think  he  saw 
Gleams  of  that  light  she  lavished  from  her  eyes 


FESTU8.  239 

Wandering  amid  the  words  of  love  there  traced, 
Like  glowworms  among  beds  of  flowers.     He  seemed 
To  bear  with  being  but  because  she  loved  him, 
She  was  the  sheath  wherein  his  soul  had  rest, 
As  hath  a  sword  from  war :  and  he  at  night 
Would  solemnly  and  singularly  curse 
Each  minute  that  he  had  not  thought  of  her. 

Helen.    Now  that  was  like  a  lover!   and  she 
loved 
Him,  and  him  only. 

Festus.  Well,  perhaps  it  was  so. 

But  he  could  not  restrain  his  heart,  but  loved 
In  that  voluptuous  purity  of  taste 
Which  dwells  on  beauty  coldly,  and  yet  kindly, 
As  night-dew,  whensoe'er  he  met  with  beauty. 

Helen.     It  was  a  pity,  that  inconstancy  — 
If  she  he  loved  were  but  as  good  and  fair 
As  he  was  worthy  of. 

Student.  It  was  his  way. 

Festus.     There  is  a  dark  and  bright  to  every 
thing; 
To  every  thing  but  beauty  such  as  thine, 
And  that  is  all  bright.     If  a  fault  in  him, 
'T  was  one  which  made  him  do  the  sweetest  wrongs 
Man  ever  did.     And  yet  a  whisper  went 
That  he  did  wrong  :  and  if  that  whisper  had 
Echo  in  him  or  not,  it  mattered  little ; 
Or  right  or  wrong,  he  were  alike  unhappy. 
Ah  me  !  ah  me !  that  there  should  be  so  much 
To  call  up  love,  so  little  to  delight ! 
The  best  enjoyment  is  half  disappointment 
To  that  we  mean  or  would  have  in  this  world. 
And  there  were  many  strange  and  sudden  lights 
Beckoned  him  towards  them ;  they  were  wreckers, 

lights  : 
But  he  shunned  these,  and  righted  when  she  rose, 
Moon  of  his  life,  that  ebbed  and  flowed  with  her, 
A  sea  of  sorrow  struck  him,  but  he  held 
On :  dashed  all  sorrow  from  him  as  a  bark 


240  FESTUS. 

Spray  from  her  bow  bounding ;  he  lifted  up 
His  head,  and  the  deep  ate  his  shadow  merely. 

Helen.     A  poet  not  in  love  is  out  at  sea ; 
He  must  have  a  lay-figure. 

Festus.  I  meant  not 

To  screen,  but  to  describe  this  friend  of  mine. 

Helen.    Describe  the  lady,  too ;  of  course  she  was 
Above  all  praise  and  all  comparison. 

Festus.     Why,  true.     Her  heart  was   all  hu- 
manity, 
Her  soul  all  God's ;  in  spirit  and  in  form, 
Like  fair.     Her  cheek  had  the  pale  pearly  pink 
Of  seashells,  the  world's  sweetest  tint,  as  though 
She  lived,  one  half  might  deem,  on  roses  sopped 
In  silver  dew ;  she  spake  as  with  the  voice 
Of  spheral  harmony  which  greets  the  soul 
When  at  the  hour  of  death  the  saved  one  knows 
His  sister  angels  near ;  her  eye  was  as 
The  golden  pane  the  setting  sun  doth  just 
Imblaze;  which  shows,  till   Heaven   comes   down 

again, 
All  other  lights  but  grades  of  gloom ;  her  dark, 
Long,  rolling  locks  were  as  a  stream  the  slave 
Might  search  for  gold,  and  searching  find. 

Helen.  Enough!  — 

I  have  her  picture  perfect ;  —  quite  enough. 

Student.     What  were  his  griefs  ? 

Festus.  He  who  hath  most  of  heart 

Knows  most  of  sorrow  ;  not  a  thing  he  saw 
Nor  did,  but  was  to  him,  at  times,  a  woe  ; 
At  times  indifferent,  at  times  a  joy. 
Folly  and  sin  and  memory  make  a  curse 
Wherewith  the  future  fires  may  vie  in  vain 
The  sorrows  of  the  soul  are  graver  still. 

Student.  Where  and  when  did  he  study  ?  Did 
he  mix 
Much  with  the  world,  or  was  he  a  recluse  ? 

Festus.     He  had   no  times  of  study,  and  no 
place ; 


FESTUS.  241 

All  places  and  all  times  to  him  were  one. 
His  soul  was  like  the  wind-harp,  which  he  loved, 
And  sounded  only  when  the  spirit  blew. 
Sometimes  in  feasts  and  follies,  for  he  went 
Life-like  through  all  things ;  and  his  thoughts  then 

rose 
Like  sparkles  in  the  bright  wine,  brighter  still. 
Sometimes  in  dreams,  and  then  the  shining  words 
Would  wake  him  in  the  dark  before  his  face. 
All  things  talked  thoughts  to  him.     The  sea  went 

mad, 
And  the  wind  whined  as  't  were  in  pain,  to  show 
Each  one  his  meaning ;  and  the  awful  sun 
Thundered  his  thoughts  into  him  ;  and  at  night 
The  stars  would  whisper  theirs,  the  moon  sigh  hers. 
The  spirit  speaks  all  tongues  and  understands; 
Both  God's  and  angel's,  man's  and  all  dumb  things, 
Down  to  an  insect's  inarticulate  hum 
And  an  inaudible  organ.     And  it  was 
The  spirit  spake  to  him  of  every  thing ; 
And  with  the  moony  eyes  like  those  we  see, 
Thousands  on  thousands,  crowding  air  in  dreams, 
Looked  into  him  its  mighty  meanings,  till 
He  felt  the  power  fulfil  him,  as  a  cloud 
In  every  fibre  feels  the  forming  wind. 
He  spake  the  world's  one  tongue ;  in  earth  and 

Heaven 
There  is  but  one,  it  is  the  word  of  truth. 
To  him  the  eye  let  but  its  hidden  meaning ; 
And  young  and  old  made  their  hearts  over  to  him ; 
And  thoughts  were  told  to  him  as  unto  none 
Save  one  who  heareth  said  and  unsaid,  all. 
And  his  heart  held  these  as  a  grate  its  gleeds, 
Where  others  warm  them. 

Student.  I  would  I  had  known  him. 

Festus.     All  things  were  inspiration  unto  him; 
Wood,  wold,  hill,  field,  sea,  city,  solitude, 
And  crowds,  and  streets,  and  man  where'er  he  was ; 
And  the  blue  eye  of  God  which  is  above  us ; 
16 


242  FESTUS. 

Brook-bounded  pine  spinnies,  where  spirits  flit ; 
And  haunted  pits  the  rustic  hurries  by, 
Where  cold  wet  ghosts  sit  ringing  jingling  bells  ; 
Old  orchards'  leaf-roofed  aisles,  and  red  cheeked 

load; 
And  the  blood-colored  tears  which  yew  trees  weep 
O'er  churchyard  graves,  like  murderers  remorseful. 
The  dark  green  rings  where  fairies  sit  and  sup, 
Crushing  the  violet  dew  in  the  acorn  cup : 
Where  by  his  new-made  bride  the  bride-groom  sips, 
The  white  moon  shimmering  on  their  longing  lips  ; 
The  large  o'erloaded  wealthy-looking  wains 
Quietly  swaggering  home  through  leafy  lanes, 
Leaving  on  all  low  branches  as  they  come, 
Straws  for  the  birds,  ears  of  the  harvest  home. 
Summer's  warm  soil  or  winter's  cruel  sky, 
Clear,  cold,  and  icy-blue,  like  a  sea-eagle's  eye  ; 
All  things  to  Him  bare  thoughts  of  minstrelsy. 
He  drew  his  light  from  that  he  was  amidst, 
As  doth  a  lamp  from  air  which  hath  itself 
Matter  of  light,  although  it  show  it  not.     His 
Was  but  the  power  to  light  what  might  be  lit. 
He  met  a  muse  in  every  lovely  maid ; 
And  learned  a  song  from  every  lip  he  loved. 
But  his  heart  ripened  most  'neath  southern  eyes, 
Which  sunned  their  sweets  into  him  all  day  long : 
For  fortune  called  him  southwards,  towards  the  sun. 

Helen.    Did  he  love  music  ? 

Festus.  The  only  music  he 

Or  learned  or  listened  to  was  from  the  lips 
Of  her  he  loved,  and  that  he  learned  by  heart. 
Albeit,  she  would  try  to  teach  him  tunes, 
And  put  his  fingers  on  the  keys ;  but  he 
Could  only  see  her  eyes,  and  hear  her  voice, 
And  feel  her  touch. 

Helen.  Why,  he  was  much  like  thee. 

Festus.     We  had  some  points  in  common. 

Student.  Was  he  proud  ? 

Festus.     Lowliness  is  the  base  of  every  virtue 


FESTUS.  243 

4.nd  lie  who  goes  the  lowest,  builds  the  safest. 
My  God  keeps  all  his  pity  for  the  proud. 

Student.     Was  he  world- wise  ? 

Festus.  The  only  wonder  is 

He  knew  so  much,  leading  the  life  he  did. 

Student.    Yet  it  may  seem  less  strange  when 
we  think  back, 
That  we,  in  the  dark  chamber  of  the  heart, 
Sitting  alone,  see  the  world  tabled  to  us  ; 
And  the  world  wonders  how  recluses  know 
So  much,  and  most  of  all,  how  we  know  them. 
It  is  they  who  paint  themselves  upon  our  hearts 
In  their  own  lights  and  darknesses,  not  we. 
One  stream  of  light  is  to  us  from  above, 
And  that  is  that  we  see  by,  light  of  God. 

Festus.     We  do  not  make  our  thoughts ;  they 
grow  in  us 
Like  grain  in  wood :  the  growth  is  of  the  skies, 
Which  are  of  nature,  nature  is  of  God. 
The  world  is  full  of  glorious  likenesses. 
The  poet's  power  is  to  sort  these  out, 
And  to  make  music  from  the  common  strings 
With  which  the  world  is  strung :  to  make  the  dumb 
Earth  utter  heavenly  harmony,  and  draw 
Life  clear,  and  sweet,  and  harmless  as  spring  water, 
Welling  its  way  through  flowers.     Without  faith, 
Illimitable  faith,  strong  as  a  state's 
In  its  own  might,  in  God,  no  bard  can  be. 
All  things  are  signs  of  other  and  of  nature. 
It  is  at  night  we  see  heaven  moveth,  and 
A  darkness  thick  with  suns.     The  thoughts  we  think 
Subsist  the  same  in  God  as  stars  in  Heaven. 
And  as  these  specks  of  light  will  prove  great  worlds 
When  we  approach  them  sometime  free  from  flesh, 
So,  too,  our  thoughts  will  become  magnified 
To  mindlike  things  immortal.     And  as  space 
Is  but  a  property  of  God,  wherein 
Is  laid  all  matter,  other  attributes 
May  be  the  infinite  homes  of  mind  and  soul. 


244  FESTUS. 

And  thoughts  rise  from  our  souls,  as  from  the  sea 

The  clouds  sublimed  in  Heaven.     The  cloud  is  colti^ 

Although  ablaze  with  lightning  —  though  it  shine 

At  all  points  like  a  constellation  ;  so 

We  live  not  to  ourselves,  our  work  is  life  ; 

In  bright  and  ceaseless  labor  as  a  star 

Which  shineth  unto  all  worlds  but  itself. 

Helen.     And  were  this  friend  and  bard  of  whom 
thou  speakest, 
And  she  whom  he  did  love,  happy  together  ? 

Festus.   True  love  is  ever  tragic,  grievous,  grave. 
Bards  and  their  beauties  are  like  double  stars, 
One  in  their  bright  effect. 

Helen.  Whose  light  is  love. 

Student.     Or  is  it  poesie  thou  meanest  ? 

Festus.  Both : 

For  love  is  poesie  —  it  doth  create : 
From  fading  features,  dim  soul,  doubtful  heart, 
And  this  world's  wretched  happiness,  a  life 
Which  is  as  near  to  Heaven  as  are  the  stars. 
They  parted ;  and  she  named  Heaven's  judgment- 
seat 
As  their  next  place  of  meeting :  and  t  was  kept 
By  her,  at  least,  so  far  that  nowhere  else 
Could  it  be  made  until  the  day  of  doom.  [sinks 

Helen.     So  soon  men's  passion  passes!  yea,  it 
Like  foam  into  the  troubled  wave  which  bore  it. 
Merciful  God  !  let  me  entreat  Thy  mercy ! 
I  have  seen  all  the  woes  of  men  — pain,  death, 
Remorse,  and  worldly  ruin  ;  they  are  little 
Weighed  with  the  woe  of  woman  when  forsaken 
By  him  she  loved  and  trusted.     Hear,  too,  thou ! 
Lady  of  Heaven,  Mother  of  God  and  man, 
Who  made  the  world  His  brother,  one  with  God  — - 
Maid-mother !  mould  of  God,  who  wrought  in  thee 
By  model  as  He  doth  in  the  world's  womb, 
So  that  the  universe  is  great  with  God  — 
Thou  in  whom  God  did  deify  Himself, 
Betaking  him  into  mortality, 


FESTUS.  245 

As  in  Thy  Son  He  took  it  into  Him, 
And  from  the  temporal  and  eternal  made 
Of  the  soul-world  one  same  and  ever  God  ! 
Oh  !  for  the  sake  of  thine  own  womanhood, 
Pray  away  aught  of  evil  from  her  soul, 
And  take  her  out  of  anguish  unto  thee, 
Always,  as  thou  didst  this  one  ! 

Festus.  Who  doth  not 

Believe  that  that  he  loveth  cannot  die  ? 
There  is  no  mote  of  death  in  thine  eye's  beams 
To  hint  of  dust,  or  darkness,  or  decay ; 
Eclipse  upon  eclipse,  and  death  on  death ; 
No  !  immortality  sits  mirrored  there 
Like  a  fair  face  long  looking  on  itself; 
Yet  Ihou  shalt  lie  in  death's  angelic  garb 
As  in  a  dream  of  dress,  my  beautiful ! 
The  worm  shall  trail  across  thine  unsunned  sweets, 
And  fatten  him  on  that  men  pined  to  death  for ; 
Yea,  have  a  further  knowledge  of  thy  beauties 
Than  ever  did  thy  best-loved  lover  dream  of. 

Helen.     It  is  unkind  to  think  of  me  in  this  wise. 
Surely  the  stars  must  feel  that  they  are  bright, 
In  beauty,  number,  nature  infinite  ; 
And  the  strong  sense  we  have  of  God  in  us 
Makes  me  believe  my  soul  can  never  cease. 
The  temples  perish,  but  the  God  still  lives. 

Festus.     It  is  therefore  that  I  love  thee ;  for  that 
when 
The  fiery  perfection  of  the  world, 
The  sun,  shall  be  a  shadow  and  burnt  out, 
There  is  an  impulse  to  eternity 
Raised  by  this  moment's  love. 

Student.  I  pray  it  may ! 

Time  is  the  crescent  shape  to  bounded  eye 
Of  what  is  ever  perfect  unto  God. 
The  bosom  heaves  to  Heaven  and  to  the  stars ; 
Our  very  hearts  throb  upwards,  our  eyes  look ; 
Our  aspirations  always  are  divine  : 
Yet  is  it  in  the  gloom  of  soul  we  see 


246  FESTUS. 

Most  of  the  God  about  us,  as  at  night. 

For  then  the  soul,  like  the  mother-maid  of  Christ, 

Is  overshadowed  by  the  Holy  Spirit ; 

And  in  creative  darkness  doth  conceive 

Its  humanized  Divinity  of  life. 

Festus.     Think  then  God  shows  his  face  to  us 
no  less 
In  spiritual  darkness  than  in  light. 

Helen.    But  of  thy  friend  ?    I  would  hear  more 
of  him. 
Perhaps  much  happiness  in  friendship  made 
Amends  for  his  love's  sorrows. 

Festus.  Ask  me  not. 

Helen.     But    loved    he    never    after  ?     Came 
there  none  « 

To  roll  the  stone  from  his  sepulchral  heart, 
And  sit  in  it  an  angel  ? 

Festus.  Ah,  my  life  ! 

My  more  than  life,  my  immortality ! 
Both  man  and  womankind  belie  their  nature 
When  they  are  not  kind  :  and  thy  words  are  kind, 
And  beautiful,  and  loving  like  thyself; 
Thine  eye  and  thy  tongue's  tone,  and  all  that  speak 
Thy  soul,  are  like  it.     There 's  a  something  in 
The  shape  of  harps  as  though  they  had  been  made 
By  music  :  beauty 's  the  effect  of  soul, 
And  he  of  whom  thou  askest  loved  again. 
Couldst  thou  have  loved  one  who  was  unlike  men  ? 
Whose  heart  was  wrinkled  long  before  his  brow  ? 
Who  would  have  cursed  himself  if  he  had  dared 
Tempt  God  to  ratify  his  curse  in  fire : 
And  yet  with  whom  to  look  on  beauty  was 
A  need,  a  thirst,  a  passion  ? 

Helen.  Yes,  I  think 

I  could  have  loved  him :  but,  no  —  not  unless 
He  was  like  thee  ;  unless  he  had  been  thee. 
Tell  me,  what  was  it  rendered  him  so  wretched 
At  heart  ? 

Festus.    I  will  not  tell  thee. 


FESTUS.  247 

Student.  But  tell  me 

How  and  on  what  he  wrote,  this  friend  of  thine  ? 
Festus.   Love,  mirth,  woe,  pleasure,  was  in  turn 

his  theme, 
And  the  great  good  which  beauty  does  the  soul ; 
And  the  God-made  necessity  of  things. 
And  like  that  noble  knight  in  olden  tale, 
Who  changed  his  armor's  hue  at  each  fresh  charge 
By  virtue  of  his  lady-love's  strange  ring, 
So  that  none  knew  him  save  his  private  page 
And  she  who  cried,  God  save  him,  every  time 
He  brake  spears  with  the  brave  till  he  quelled  all — 
So  he  applied  him  to  all  themes  that  came ; 
Loving  the  most  to  breast  the  rapid  deeps 
Where   others   had  been   drowned,   and  heeding 

nought 
Where  danger  might  not  fill  the  place  of  fame. 
And  'mid  the  magic  circle  of  those  sounds, 
His  lyre  rayed  out,  spell-bound  himself  he  stood, 
Like  a  stilled  storm.     It  is  no  task  for  suns 
To  shine.     He  knew  himself  a  bard  ordained, 
More  than  inspired,  of  God,  inspirited :  — 
Making  himself  like  an  electric  rod 
A  lure  for  lightning  feelings ;  and  his  words 
Felt  like  the  things  that  fall  in  thunder,  which 
The  mind,  when  in  a  dark,  hot,  cloudful  state, 
Doth  make  metallic,  meteoric,  ball-like. 
He  spake  to  spirits  with  a  spirit  tongue, 
Who  came  compelled  by  wizard  word  of  truth, 
And  rayed  them   round   him  from   the   ends   of 

Heaven. 
For  as  be  all  bards,  he  was  born  of  beauty, 
And  with  a  natural  fitness  to  draw  down 
All  tones  and  shades  of  beauty  to  his  soul, 
Even  as  the  rainbow-tinted  shell,  which  lies 
Miles  deep  at  bottom  of  the  sea,  hath  ail 
Colors  of  skies  and  flowers,  and  gems,  and  plumes, 
And  all  by  Nature  which  doth  reproduce 
Like  loveliness  in  seeming  opposites. 


248  FESTUS. 

Our  life  is  like  the  wizard's  charmed  ring : 
Death's  heads,  and  loathsome   things   fill   up  the 

ground  ; 
But  spirits  wing  about,  and  wait  on  us, 
While  yet  the  hour  of  enchantment  is. 
And  while  we  keep  in,  we  are  safe,  and  can 
Force  them  to  do  our  bidding.     And  he  raised 
The  rebel  in  himself,  and  in  his  mind 
Walked  with  him  through  the  world. 

Student.  He  wrote  of  this  ? 

Festus.   He  wrote  a  poem. 

Student.  What  was  said  of  it  ? 

Festus.    Oh,  much  was  said  —  much  more  than 
understood ; 
One  said  that  he  was  mad ;  another,  wise  ; 
Another,  wisely  mad.     The  book  is  there. 
Judge  thou  among  them. 

Student.  Well,  but,  who  said  what  ? 

Festus.    Some  said  that  he  blasphemed;  and 
these  men  lied 
To  all  eternity,  unless  such  men 
Be  saved,  when  God  shall  rase  that  lie  from  life, 
And  from  His  own  eternal  memory : 
But  still  the  word  is  lied ;  though  it  were  writ 
In  honey  dew  upon  a  lily  leaf, 
With  quill  of  nightingale,  like  love  letters 
From  Oberon  sent  to  the  bright  Titania, 
Fairest  of  all  the  fays  —  for  that  he  used 
The  name  of  God  as  spirits  use  it,  barely, 
Yet  surely  more  sublime  in  nakedness, 
Statue-like,  than  in  a  whole  tongue  of  dress. 
Thou  knowest,  God  !  that  to  the  full  of  worship 
All  things  are  worshipful ;  and  Thy  great  name, 
In  all  its  awful  brevity,  hath  nought 
"Unholy  breeding  in  it,  but  doth  bless 
Rather  the  tongue  that  utters  it ;  for  me, 
I  ask  no  higher  office  than  to  fling 
My  spirit  at  Thy  feet,  and  cry  Thy  name, 
God  1  through  eternity.     The  man  who  sees 


FESTUS.  249 

Irreverence  in  that  name,  must  have  been  used 
To  take  that  name  in  vain,  and  the  same  man 
Would  see  obscenity  in  pure  white  statues. 
Call  all  things  by  their  names.     Hell,  call  thou 

hell; 
Archangel,  call  archangel ;  and  God,  God. 

Student.   And  what  said  he  of  such  ? 

Festus.  He  held  his  peaca 

A  season,  as  a  tree  its  sap  till  spring, 
Preparing  to  unfold  itself,  and  let 
All  rigor  do  its  worst,  which  only  served 
To  harden  him,  though  nothing  nesh  at  first. 
And  then  he  said  at  last,  what,  at  the  first, 
He  deemed  would  have  been  seen  by  other  men, 
By  men,  at  least,  above  low-water  mark, 
Who  take  it,  they  lead  others ;  that  it  is  they 
Who  set  their  shoulders  to  the  stalled  world's  wheel, 
And  give  it  a  hitch  forwards. 

Helen.  There  were  some 

Encouraged  him  with  good  will,  surely  ? 

Festus.  Many. 

The  kind,  the  noble,  and  the  able  cheered  him ; 
The  lovely,  likewise :  others  knew  he  nought  of. 
And  yet  he  loved  not  praise,  nor  sighed  for  fame. 
Men's  praise  begets  an  awe  of  one's  own  self 
Within  us,  till  we  fear  our  heart,  lest  it, 
Magician-like,  show  more  than  we  can  bear. 
Nor  was  he  fameless ;  but  obscurity 
Hath  many  a  sacred  use.     The  clouds  which  hide 
The  mental  mountains  rising  nighest  Heaven, 
Are  full  of  finest  lightning,  and  a  breath 
Can  give  those  gathered  shadows  fearful  life, 
And  launch  their  light  in  thunder  o'er  the  world. 

Student.     And    thought  he  well  of  that  he 
wrote  ? 

Festus.  Perchance. 

Perchance  we  suffer,  and  perchance  succeed. 
Perchance  he  would  his  tongue  had  perished  ere 
tt  uttered  half  he  said,  from  childhood  up 


250  FESTUS. 

To  manhood,  and  so  on ;  for  much  I  heard 
From  him  required  expiation,  much 
Soul  sacrifice  and  penance  for  heart-deeds 
Which  passion  had  accomplished ;  yea,  perchance, 
He  wished,  how  vain  !  that  fruitful  heart  and  breast 
Had  withered  like  a  witch's  ere  he  had  trained 
The  parasites  of  feeling  that  he  did 
About  it ;  and  perchance,  for  all  I  know, 
He  would  his  brain  had  died  ere  it  conceived 
One  half  the  thought-seeds  that  took  life  in  it, 
And  in  his  soul's  dark  sanctuary  dwelt. 
Yet  his  blue  eye's  dark  ball  grew  greater  with 
Delight,  and  darker,  as  he  viewed  the  things 
He  made  ;  not  monsters  outside  of  the  fane, 
Grinning  and  howling,  but  seraphic  forms  — 
Embodied  thoughts  of  worship,  wisdom,  love, 
Joining  their  fire-tipped  wings  across  the  shrine 
Where  his  heart's  relics  lay,  and  where  were  wrought 
Immortal  miracles  upon  men's  minds. 

Student.   Take  up  the  book,  and,  if  thou  under- 
standest, 
Unfold  it  to  me. 

Festus.  What  I  can,  I  will. 

Well  I  remember  me  of  thee,  poor  book  ! 
But  there  is  consolation  e'en  for  thee. 
Fair  hands  have  turned  thee  over,  and  bright  eyes 
Sprinkled  their  sparkles  o'er  thee  with  their  prayers. 
The  poet's  pen  is  the  true  divining  rod 
Which  trembles  towards  the  inner  founts  of  feei- 
Bringing to  light  and  use,  else  hid  from  all, 
The  many  sweet,  clear  sources  which  we  have 
Of  good  and  beauty  in  our  own  deep  bosoms ; 
And  marks  the  variations  of  all  mind 
As  does  the  needle  an  air-investing  storm's. 

Student.   How  does  the  book  begin,  go  on,  and 
end  ? 

Festus.    It  has  a  plan,  but  no  plot.    Life  hath 
none. 


FESTUS.  251 

Helen.    Tell  us,  love ;  we  will  listen  and  not 


I  wish  I  understood  it,  for  I  know 

You  would  rather  hear  me  than  yourselves  talk. 

Student.  Surely. 

I  'd  give  up  half  the  organs  in  my  head, 
Besides  all  undiscovered  faculties, 
To  list  to  such  a  lecturer ;  and  then 
Have  quite  enough,  perhaps,  to  comprehend. 

Helen.      'T  were    needless  that,  to  one  half- 
witted now. 
Festus.     There  is  a  porch,  wherefrom  is  some- 
thing seen 
Of  the  main  dome  beyond.      Though  shadows  cross 
Each  other's  path,  yet  let  us  go  through  it. 
And  lo !  an  opening  scene  in  Heaven,  wherein 
The  foredoom  of  all  things,  spirit  and  matter, 
Is  shown,  and  the  permission  of  temptation ; 
The  angelic  worship  of  the  Trinity, 
By  God's  name  uttered  thrice ;  the  joys  and  powers 
Of  souls  o'erblest,  and  the  sweet  offices 
Of  warden-angel  told ;  and  the  complete 
Well-fixed  necessity  and  end  of  all  things. 
From  Heaven  we  come  to  earth,  and  so  do  souls. 
For  next  succeeds  a  soft  and  sunset  scene, 
Wherein  is  shown  the  collapsed,  empty  state 
In  which  all  worldly  pleasures  leave  us  ;  youth's 
Though  natural,  fitful,  unavailing,  struggle 
Against  a  great  temptation  come  unlooked  for : 
And  that  to  sin  is  to  curse  God  in  deed. 
The  soul  long  used  to  truth  still  keeps  its  strength, 
Though  plunged  upon  a  sudden  mid  the  false ; 
As  hands,  thrust  into  a  dark  room,  retain 
Their  sunlent  light  a  season.     So  with  this. 
The  lines  have  under  meanings,  and  the  scene 
Of  self-forgetfulness  and  indecision 
Breaks  off,  not  ends.     A  starry,  stirless  night 
Follows,  which  shadows  out  youth's  barren  long- 
ings 


252  FESTUS. 

For  goodness,  greatness,  marvels,  mysteries. 
Whence  comes  this  dream  of  immortality, 
And  the  resurgent  essence  ?     Let  us  think  ! 
What  mean  we  by  the  dead?      The  dead  have 

life, 
The  changed ;  and,  if  they  come,  it  is  to  show 
Their  change  is  for  the  better.     The  bait  takes. 
Man  and  his  foe  shake  hands  upon  their  bargain. 
The  youth  sets  out  for  joy,  and  'neath  the  care 
Of  his  good  enemy,  begins  his  course. 
The  next  scene  seems  to  promise  fair ;  for  sure 
If  that  there  be  one  scene  in  life,  wherefrom 
Evil  is  absent,  it  is  pure  early  love. 

Helen.     Alas !   when  beauty  pleads  the  cause 
of  virtue 
The  chief  temptation  to  embrace  it's  wanting. 

FE8TUS.    A  man  in  love  sees  wonders.    But  not 
love 
Makes  the  soul  happy:   so  the  youth  gets  hope- 
less. 
To  this  comes  on  a  stern  and  stormy  quarrel 
'Tween  the  two  foe   friends  —  Youth  demanding 

what 
Cannot  be ;  and  the  other  withholding  safe 
And  easy  grants.     They  part  and  meet,  as  though 
Nothing  had  happened,  in  the  next  scene  :   none 
Know  how  we  reconcile  ourselves  to  evil. 
But  there  they  are,  together,  aiding  each 
The  other,  and  abusing  others. 

Helen.  I 

Was  waiting  for  an  eloquential  pause 
In  this  mysterious,  allegorical, 
Mythical,  theological,  odd  story. 
So  now,  then,  I  shall  ask  myself  to  sing ; 
And  granting  I  agree  to  my  request, 
I  think  you  ought  to  thank  me. 

Student.  That  we  will. 

But  not  just  now. 


FESTUS.  253 

Helen.     Oh !  yes,  now ;  yes,  this  moment. 
I  'in  in  the  humor. 

Student.  We  are  not. 

Festus.  Yes,  let  her  ! 

Helen.     What  shall  I  sing  ? 

Festus.  Sing  something  merry,  love. 

Helen.    I  won't :  I  '11  sing  the  dullest  thing  I 
know, 
One  of  thine  own  songs. 

Student.  What  a  compliment ! 

Festus.     Sing  what  thou  lik'st,  then. 

Helen.  No  ;  what  thou  lik'st. 

Student.  Well, 

Something  about  love,  and  it  can't  be  wrong. 
For  love  the  sunny  world  supplies 
With  laughing  lips  and  happy  eyes. 

Festus.     And  'twill  be  sooner  over. 

Student.  And  so  better. 

Helen.    Like  an  island  in  a  river, 

Art  thou,  my  love,  to  me  ; 
And  I  journey  by  thee  ever 

With  a  gentle  ecstasy. 
I  arise  to  fall  before  thee  ; 

I  come  to  kiss  thy  feet ; 
To  adorn  thee  and  adore  thee, 

Mine  only  one  !  my  sweet ! 

And  thy  love  hath  power  upon  me, 

Like  a  dream  upon  a  brain ; 
For  the  loveliness  which  won  me, 

With  the  love,  too,  doth  remain. 
And  my  life  it  beautifieth, 

Though  love  be  but  a  shade, 
Known  of  only  ere  it  dieth, 

By  the  darkness  it  hath  made. 

Was  that  addressed  to  me  ? 
Student.  Well,  now  resume. 


254  FESTUS. 

Festus.     Trial  alone  of  ill  and  folly  gives 
Clear  proofs  of  the  world's  vanities ;  but  little 
Good  comes  of  sermons,  prophecies,  or  warnings. 
Though  from  the  steps  of  an  old   gray  marked 

cross, 
The  devil  is  holding  forth  to  the  faithless.     There 
A  social  prayer  is  offered  up,  too.     This 
Is  followed  by  a  bird's-eye  view  of  earth, 
A  stirring-up  of  the  dust  of  all  the  nations. 
Then  comes  a  village  feast ;  a  kind  of  home 
Unto  the  traveller  —  where,  with  the  world, 
We  mix  in  private,  talking  divers  things  ; 
A  country  merry-making,  where  all  speak 
According  to  their  sorts,  and  the  occasion. 
Deeper  than  ever  leadline  went,  behold 
We  search  the  rayless  central  sun  within. 
We  penetrate  all  mysteries,  but  are 
Unfitted  long  to  dwell  in  the  recess 
Of  our  own  nature,  and  we  long  for  light. 
True  aspiration  riseth  from  research. 
Next,  by  the  o'er  thrown  altar  of  a  fane, 
Foundation-shattered,  like  the  ripened  heart, 
We  find  ourselves  in  worship.     Let  us  hope 
The  spirit,  form,  and  offering,  grateful  all. 
In  one  of  Earth's  head  cities,  after  this, 
We  tower-like  rise,  and  with  an  eminent  eye 
Glance  round  society,  insatiate  ;  — 
The  high  unknown  as  yet  unrealized. 
In  less  time  than  the  twinkling  of  a  star, 
Insphered  in  air,  the  arch-fiend  and  the  youth, 
Like  twilight  and  midnight,  discourse  and  rise. 
Thence  to  another  planet,  for  the  book, 
Stream-like,  doth  steal  the  images  of  stars, 
And  trembles  at  its  boldness,  where  we  meet 
The  spirit  of  the  first  night  of  temptation  ; 
And  mix  with  many  of  those  lofty  musings 
Which  sow  in  us  the  seeds  of  higher  kind 
And  brighter  being.     Heavenly  poesie, 
Which  shines  among  the  powers  of  our  mind, 


FESTUS.  255 

As  that  bright  star  she  dwells  in,  mid  the  worlds 
Which  make  the  system  of  the  sun,  is  there  too. 
But  these  high  things  are  lost,  and  drowned,  and 

dimmed, 
Like  a  blue  eye  in  tears,  that  trickle  from  it 
Like  angels  leaving  Heaven  on  their  errands 
Of  love,  behind  them,  in  the  scene  succeeding  ;  — 
A  scene  of  song,  and  dance,  and  mirth,  and  wine, 
And  damsels,  in  whose  lily  skin  the  blue 
Veins  branch  themselves  in  hidden  luxury, 
Hues  of  the  heaven  they  seem  to  have  vanished 
from. 

Helen.     Moonlight  and  music,  and  kisses,  and 
wine, 
And  beauty,  which  must  be,  for  rhyme-sake,  divine. 

Festus.  Mere  joys  ;  but  saddened  and  sublimed 
at  close 
By  sweet  remembrance  of  immortal  ones 
Once  loved,  aye  hallowed.    Still,  in  scenes  like  this, 
Youth  lingers  longest,  drawing  out  his  time 
As  a  gold-beater  does  his  wire,  until 
'T  would  reach  round  the  earth. 

Student.  And  be  of  no  use  then. 

Festus.    Blame  not  the  bard  for  showing  this, 
but  mind 
He  wrote  of  youth  as  passionate  genius, 
Its  flights  and  follies  —  both  its  sensual  ends 
And  common  places.     To  behold  an  eagle 
Batting  the  sunny  ceiling  of  the  world 
With  his  dark  wings,  one  well  might  deem  his  heart 
On  heaven  ;  but,  no !  it  is  fixed  on  flesh  and  blood, 
And  soon  his  talons  tell  it.     Pass  we  on  ! 
A  brief  and  solemn  parley  o'er  a  grave 
Follows,  in  which  youth  vows  to  trust  in  God, 
Be  the  end  what  it  may.     A  prescient  view 
Of  what  is  true  repentance  to  the  soul, 
Spirit-informed,  expands  ;  and  over  all 
The  spiritual  harmonies  of  Heaven 
By  the  raised  soul  are  heard,  and  God's  great  rule 


256  FESTUS. 

To  creatures  justified.     And  next  we  find 
Ourselves  in  Heaven.     Even  man's  deadly  life 
Can  be  there,  by  God's  leave.     Once  brought  to 

God, 
The  soul's  foredoom  is  set  before  it  brightly, 
And  Heaven's  designs  are  seen  to  be  brought  to 

bear, 
A  lightning  revelation  of  the  Heavens, 
And  what  is  in  them.     Let  it  not  be  said 
He  sought  his  God  in  the  self-slayer's  way, 
Whose  highest  aim  was  but  to  worship  in 
All  humbleness  ;  for  he  was  called  thereto, 
To  show  the  holy  God,  in  three  scenes,  first 
And  last  in  Threelihood,  and  midst  in  One  : 
Although  less  hard  to  shape  the  wide-winged  wind 
O'er  the  bright  heights  of  air.     He  will  forgive  : 
For  we,  this  moment,  and  all  living  souls  — 
All  matter,  are  as  much  within  his  presence, 
And  known  through,  like  a  glass  film  in  the  sun, 
As  we  can  ever  be.     Through  sundry  worlds 
The  mortal  wends,  returning,  and  relates 
To  her  he  loves  —  and  joyously,  they  greet, 
As  boat  by  breeze  and  billow  backed  by  tide  — 
His  bright  experience  of  celestial  homes  ; 
Where  spiritual  natures,  kind  and  high, 
Light-born,  which  can  divine  immortal  things, 
Abide  embosomed  in  Eternity. 
Something  he  tells,  too,  of  the  friendly  fiend, 
Something  of  ancient  ages,  infant  Earth. 
To  this  succeeds  a  scene  explaining  much, 
Of  retrospective  and  prospective  cast, 
Between  the  bard,  his  beauty  and  his  friend. 
Our  story  ties  us  here  to  earth  again, 
And  sea  all  aged.     Evil  is  in  love  ; 
And  ever  those  who  are  unhappiest  have 
Their  hearts'  desire  the  oftenest,  but  in  dreams. 
Dreams  are  mind-clouds,  high  andunshapen  beauties, 
Or  but  God-shaped,  like  mountains,  which  contain 
Much  and  rich  matter ;  often  not  for  us, 


FESTUS.  257 

But  for  another.     Dreams  are  rudiments 

Of  the  great  state  to  come.     We  dream  what  is 

About  to  happen  to  us. 

Helen.  What  may  be 

The  dream  in  this  case  ? 

Festus.  It  is  one  of  death. 

Helen.    Of  death  !  is  that  all  ?  Well,  I  too  have 
had, 
What  every  one  hath  once,  at  least,  in  life  — 
A  vision  of  the  region  of  the  dead  ; 
It  was  the  land  of  shadows  :  yea,  the  land 
Itself  was  but  a  shadow,  and  the  race 
Which  seemed  therein  were  voices,  forms  of  forms, 
And  echoes  of  themselves.     And  there  was  nought, 
Of  substance  seemed,  save  one  thing  in  the  midst, 
A  great  red  sepulchre  —  a  granite  grave ; 
And  at  the  bottom  lay  a  skeleton, 
From  whose  decaying  jaws  the  shades  were  born ; 
Making  its  only  sign  of  life,  its  dying 
Continually.     Some  were  bright,  some  dark. 
Those  that  were  bright,  went  upwards  heavenly. 
They  which  were  dark,  grew  darker  and  remained. 
A  land  of  change,  yet  did  the  half  things  nothing 
That  I  could  see ;  but  passed  stilly  on, 
Taking  no  note  of  other,  mate  or  child ; 
For  all  had  lost  their  love  when  they  put  off 
The  beauty  of  the  body.     And  as  I 
Looked  on,  the  grave  before  me  backed  away. 
And  I  began  to  dream  it  was  a  dream ; 
And  I  rushed  after  it :  when  the  earth  quaked, 
Opened  and  shut,  like  the  eye  of  one  in  fits ; 
It  shut  to  with  a  shout.     The  grave  was  gone. 
And  in  the  stead  there  stood  a  gleedlike  throne, 
Which  all  the  shadows  shook  to  see,  and  swooned ; 
For  fiends  were  standing,  loaded  with  long  chains, 
The  links  whereof  were  fire,  waiting  the  word 
To  bind  and  cast  the  shadows  into  hell ; 
For  Death  the  second  sat  upon  that  throne, 
Which  set  on  fire  the  air,  not  to  be  breathed. 
17 


258  FESTUS. 

And  as  he  lifted  up  his  arm  to  speak, 

Fear  preyed  upon  all  souls,  like  fire  on  jpaper, 

And  mine  among  the  rest,  and  I  awoke. 

Student.     By  Hades !   't  was  most  awful. 

Festus.  And  when  love 

Merges  in  creature-worship,  let  us  mind  : 
We  know  not  what  it  is  we  love  :  perhaps 
It  is  incarnate  evil.     In  the  time 
It  takes  to  turn  a  leaf,  we  are  in  Heaven ; 
Making  our  way  among  the  wheeling  worlds, 
Millions  of  suns,  half  infinite  each,  and  space 
For  ever  shone  into,  for  ever  dark, 
As  God  is,  to  and  by  created  mind, 
Upheld  by  the  companion  spirit.     There 
The  nature  of  the  all  in  one,  and  whence 
Evil;  the  fixed  impossibility 
Of  creatures'  perfectness,  until  made  one 
With  God ;  and  the  necessity  of  ill 
As  yet,  are  things  all  touched  upon  and  proven. 
The  next  scene  shows  us  hell,  in  the  mad  mock 
Of  mortal  revelry  —  the  quelling  truth 
That  all  life's  sinful  follies  run  to  hell ; 
That  lies,  debauches,  murders  never  die, 
But  live  in  hell  forever ;  make,  are  hell. 
And  truth  is  there  too.     Hell  is  its  own  moral. 
Perdition  certain  to  the  unrepentant ; 
Redemption  on  a  like  scale  with  creation ; 
And  all  creation  needing  it,  and  having. 
What  follows  is  of  earth,  and  setteth  forth 
God's  mercy,  and  the  mystery  of  sin ; 
And  a  great  gathering  of  the  worlds  round  God, 
Told  by  the  youth  to  his  truthful,  trustful,  love ; 
Who,  light  and  lowly  as  a  little  glowworm, 
Sheddeth  her  beauty  round  her  like  a  rose, 
Sweet-smelhng  dew  upon  the  ground  it  grows  on. 
And  then  a  rest  in  light,  as  though  'tween  earth 
And  Heaven  there  were  a  mediate  spirit  point, 
A  bright  effect  original  of  God, 
Enlightening  all  ways,  inwardly  and  round. 


FESTUS.  259 

Then  comes  a  scene  of  passion,  brought  about 

By  the  bad  spirit's  means  for  his  own  ends, 

Whom  we  know  not  when  come,  so  dark  we  grow ; 

Making  it  but  a  blind  for  the  next  scene, 

Laid  by  the  lonely  seashore,  as  before, 

Where  the  great  waves  come  in  frothed,  like  a  horse 

Put  to  his  heart-burst  speed,  sobbing  up  hill, 

Wherein  he  works  his  victim's  death,  to  clear 

His  way,  and  keep  his  name  of  murderer ; 

As  he  in  other  parts  makes  good  his  titles, 

Deceiver,  liar,  tempter,  and  accuser ; 

Hater  of  man,  and,  most  of  all,  of  God. 

In  the  next  scene  we  picture  back  our  life, 

Contrasting  the  pure  joys  of  earlier  years, 

With  the  unsatedness  of  current  sin ; 

And  the  sad  feel  that  love's  own  heart  turns  sick 

Like  a  bad  pearl ;  but  that  the  feeling  still 

Is  adamantine,  though  the  splendid  thing 

Whereon  it  writes  its  record,  is  of  all 

Frailest ;  and  though  earth  shows  to  good  and  bad, 

The  same  blind  kindness,  beautiful  to  see, 

Wherewith  our  lovely  mother  loveth  us, 

The  world  in  vain  unbosometh  her  beauty, 

We  have  no  lust  to  live ;  for  things  may  be 

Corrupted  into  beauty ;  and  that  love, 

Where  all  the  passions  blend,  as  hues  in  white, 

Tires  at  the  last,  as  day  would,  if  all  day 

And  no  night.     So  despair  of  heart  increases. 

The  last  lure  —  power  —  is  proffered,  taken.     All 

Hangs  on  the  last  desire,  whatever  it  be. 

A  scene  of  prescient  solitude  and  soul 

Commune  with  heaven,  repentance,  prayer,  faith, 

Which  are  all  things  inspired  alone  of  God, 

Who  signifies  salvation,  follows  this. 

In  the  next  scene,  we  feel  the  end  draw  nigh. 

A  change  is  wrought  on  earth  as  great  as  that 

In  its  first  ages,  when  the  elements 

Less  gross  and  palpable  than  air,  were  changed 

To  mountainous  and  adamantine  mass? 


260  FESTUS. 

Now  'neafh  the  feet  of  nations ;  —  figuring  forth 

The  fateful  mind  which  is  to  govern  all, 

Controlling  the  great  evil ;  for  it  is  mind 

Which  shall  rule  and  be  ruled,  and  not  the  body, 

In  the  last  age  of  human  sway  on  earth ;  — 

Ambition  ruined  by  its  own  success ; 

Aims  lost,  power  useless:  love,  pure  love,  the. last 

Of  mortal  things  that  nestles  in  the  heart. 

There  is  a  love  which  acts  to  death,  and  through 

death, 
And  may  come  white,  and  bright,  and  pure,  like 

paper, 
From  refuse,  or  from  clearest  things  at  first ; 
It  is  beyond  the  accidents  of  life. 
For  things  we  make  no  count  of  have  in  them 
The  seeds  of  life,  use,  beauty,  like  the  cores 
Of  apples  that  we  iling  away  ;  —  nought  now 
Is  left  but  trust  in  God,  who  tries  the  heart 
And  saves  it,  at  the  last,  from  its  own  ruin  — 
The  parting  spirit  fluttering  like  a  flag, 
Half   from  its    earthly   staff.     The    death-change 

comes. 
Death  is  another  life.     We  bow  our  heads 
At  going  out,  we  think,  and  enter  straight 
Another  golden  chamber  of  the  king's, 
Larger  than  this  we  leave,  and  lovelier. 
And  then  in  shadowy  glimpses,  disconnect, 
The  story,  flower-like,  closes  thus  its  leaves. 
The  will  of  God  is  all  in  all.     He  makes, 
Destroys,  remakes,  for  His  own  pleasure,  all. 
After  inferior  nature  is  subdued, 
The  evil  is  confined.     All  elements 
Conglobe  themselves  from  chaos,  purified. 
The  rebegotten  world  is  born  again. 
The  body  and  the  soul  cease ;  spirit  lives : 
And  gloriously  falsified  are  all 
Earth's  caverned  prophecies  of  bodyhood. 
Spirits  rise  up,  and  rule,  and  link  with  Heaven ;  — 
The  soul  state  is  searched  into ;  dormant  Death, 


FESTUS.  261 

Evil,  and  all  the  dark  gods  of  the  heart. 
And  the  idolatrous  passions,  ruined,  chained, 
And  worshipless,  are  seen ;  and  there,  the  Word, 
Heard  and  obeyed ;  —  next  comes  the  truth  divine, 
Redintegrative ;  —  Evil's  last  and  worst 
Endeavor,  vanquished  —  by  Almighty  good. 
The  last  scene  shows  the  final  doom  of  earth, 
Soul's  judgment,  and  salvation  of  the  youth, 
As  was  fore-fixed  on  from  and  in  the  first : 
The  universe  expurgated  of  evil, 
And  hell  for  aye  abolished ;  all  create, 
Redeemed,  their  God  all  love,  themselves  all  bliss. 
We  may  say  that  the  sun  is  dead  and  gone 
For  ever ;  and  may  swear  he  will  rise  no  more ; 
The  skies  may  put  on  mourning  for  their  God, 
And  earth  heap  ashes  on  her  head :  but  who 
Shall  keep  the  sun  back,  when  he  thinks  to  rise  ? 
Where  is  the  chain  shall  bind  him  ?  Where  the  cell 
Shall  hold  him?     Hell,  he  would  burn  down  to 

embers ; 
And  would  lift  up  the  world  with  a  lever  of  light 
Out  of  his  way :  yet,  know  ye,  'twere  thrice  less 
To  do  thrice  this,  than  keep  the  soul  from  God. 
O'er  earth,  and  cloud,  and  sky,  and  star,  and  Heaven, 
It  dwells  with  God  uprisen  as  a  prayer. 
The  spirit  speaks  of  God  in  Heaven's  own  tongue, 
No  mystery  to  those  who  love,  but  learned, 
As  is  our  mother  tongue,  from  him,  the  parent ; 
By  whom  created,  fashioned,  flesh  and  spirit, 
All  forms  and  feelings  of  all  kinds  of  beauty 
Are  burned  into  our  heart-clay,  pattern-like. 
Much,  too,  is  writ,  elsewhere  and  here,  not  yet 
Made  clear,  nor  can  be  till  earth  come  of  age ; 
Like  the  unfinished  rudiments  of  light 
Which  gather  time  by  time  into  a  star. 
Thus  have  I  shown  the  meaning  of  the  book, 
And  the  most  truthful  likeness  of  a  mind, 
Which  hath  as  yet  been  limned  ;  the  mind  of  youth 
In  strengths  and  failings,  in  its  overcomings, 


262  FESTUS. 

And  in  its  short  comings ;  the  kingly  ends, 

The  universalizing  heart  of  youth; 

Its  love  of  power,  heed  not  how  had,  although 

With  surety  of  self-ruin  at  the  end. 

Every  thing  urged  against  it  proves  its  truth 

And  faithfulness  to  nature.     Some  cried  out 

'T  was  inconsistent ;  so  't  was  meant  to  be. 

Such  is  the  very  stamp  of  youth  and  nature; 

And  the  continual  losing  sight  of  its  aims, 

And  the  desertion  of  its  most  expressed 

And  dearest  rules  and  object,  this  is  youth. 

Student.     I  look  on  life  as  keeping  me  from 
God, 
Stars,  Heaven,  and  angels'  bosoms.     I  lay  ill ; 
And  the  dark,  hot  blood  throbbing  through  and 

through  me ; 
They  bled  me,  and  I  swooned ;  and  as  I  died, 
Or  seemed  to  die,  a  soft,  sweet  sadness  fell 
With  a  voluptuous  weakness  on  my  soul, 
That  made  me  feel  all  happy.     But  my  heart 
Would  live,  and  rose,  and  wrestled  with  the  soul, 
Which  stretched  its  wings  and  strained  its  strength 

in  vain, 
Twining  around  it  as  a  snake  an  eagle. 
My  eyes  unclosed  again,  and  I  looked  up, 
And  saw  the  sweet,  blue  twilight,  and  one  star, 
One  only  star,  in  Heaven  ;  and  then  I  wished 
That  I  had  died  and  gone  to  it ;  and  straight 
Was  glad  I  lived  again,  to  love  once  more. 
And  so  our  souls  turned  round  upon  themselves 
Like  orbs  upon  their  axles;  what  was  night 
Is  day;  what  day,  night.     God  will  guide  us  on, 
Body  and  soul,  through  life  and  death,  to  judg- 
ment. 
Festus.     Earth  hath  her  deserts  mixed  with 
fruitful  plains ; 
The  word  of  God  is  barren  in  some  parts ; 
A  rose  is  not  all  flower,  but  hath  much 
Which  is  of  lower  beauty,  yet  like  needful 


FESTUS.  261 

And  lie  who  in  great  makings  doth  like  these, 

Doth  only  that  which  is  most  natural. 

Like  life,  too,  it  is  boundlessly  unequal, 

Now  soaring,  and  now  grovefling :  at  one  time 

All  harmony,  and  then  again  all  harshness, 

With  an  ever-changing  style  of  thought  and  speech. 

The  work  is  still  consistent  with  itself: 

As  one  part  often  bears  upon  another, 

Lifting  it  to  the  light,  where  most  it  needs. 

The  thoughts  we  have  of  men  are  bold  as  men  ; 

Our  thoughts  of  God  are  thin  and  fleet  as  ghosts ; 

But  it  was  not  his  meaning  to  draw  men, 

Such  as  he  heard  they  were  in  the  old  world 

And  sometimes  mixed  with ;    he  blessed   God  he 

knew 
But  little  of  the  world,  that  little  good  ; 
While  some  sighed  out  that  little  was  its  all. 
So  for  the  persons  and  the  scenes  he  drew, 
Oft  in  a  dim  and  dreamy  imagery 
Shapen,  half-shapen,  mis-shapen,  unshapen, 
They   are   the    shadowy    creatures    which    youth 

dreams 
Live  in  the  world  embodied,  but  are  not, 
Save  in  the  mind's,  which  is  the  mightier  one. 
They  are  the  names  of  things  which  Ave  believe  in, 
Ideas  not  embodied,  alas,  not ! 
And  the  sad  fate  which  many  of  those  meet 
Whom  the  youth  loves  and  quits,  means  nought  so 

ill 
As  the  betrayer's  sin,  salvationless 
Almost :  it  is  but  desertion,  not  betrayal ; 
And  forced  on  him  according  to  a  promise, 
Made  at  the  first  unto  him,  and  to  be 
Wrought  out  in  brief  time ;  and  the  same  fair  souls 
Saved,  stand  for  our  1'esires  made  pure  in  Heaven, 
Let  us  work  out  our  natures  ;  we  can  do 
No  wrong  in  them,  they  are  divine,  eterne  : 
I  follow  my  attraction,  and  obey 
Nature,  as  earth  does,  circling  round  her  source 


264  FESTUS. 

Of  life  and  light,  and  keeping  true  in  Heaven, 

Though  not  perfect  in  round,  which  nothing  is. 

'Twas  the  heart-book  of  love,  well  nigh  all  grief. 

For  the  heart  leaves  its  likeness  best  in  that 

O'erwhelming  sorrow  which  burns  up  and  buries, 

Like  to  the  eloquent  impression  left 

In  lava,  of  Pompeian  maiden's  bosom. 

All  passions,  and  all  pleasures,  and  all  powers 

Of  man's   heart,   are   brought  in,  and  mind  and 

frame 
He  made  this  work  the  business  of  his  life ; 
It,  was  his  mission ;  and  was  laid  on  him. 
He  was  a  laborer  on  the  ways  of  God, 
And  had  his  hire  in  pea@«  and  power  to  work. 
He  wrote  it  not  in  the  contempt  of  rule, 
And  not  in  hate ;  but  in  the  self-made  rule 
That  there  was  none  to  him,  but  to  himself 
He  was  his  sole  rule,  and  had  right  to  be. 
The  faults  are  faults  of  nature,  and  prove  art 
Man's  nature,  that  a  thing  of  art,  like  it, 
Should  be  so  pure  in  kind. 

Helen.  I  do  believe 

The  world  is  a  forged  thing,  and  hath  not  got 
The  die  of  God  upon  it.     It  will  not  pass 
In  Heaven,  I  tell  ye. 

Student.  How  shouldst  thou  know  anght 

Of  Heaven,  unless  by  contrast  ? 

Festus.  Pray  now,  cease ; 

Ye  two  are  jarring  ever,  though  as  with 
The  bickering  beauty  of  two  swords,  whose  strife, 
Though  deadly,  maketh  music,  I  could  listen, 
Did  not  each  stab,  whichever  way,  pain  me. 

Helen.    Oh,  I  could  stand  and  rend  myself  with 
rage 
To  think  I  am  so  weak,  that  all  are  so ; 
Mere  minims  in  the  music  made  from  us  — 
While  I  would  be  a  hand  to  sweep  from  end 
To  end,  from  infinite  to  infinite, 
The  world's  great  chord.     The  beautiful  of  old 


FESTUS.  265 

Had  but  to  say  some  god  had  been  with  them, 
And  their  worst  fault  was  hallowed  to  their  best 

deed. 
That  was  to  live.     Could  we  uproot  the  past, 
Which  grows  and  throws  its  chilling  shade  o'er  us, 
Lengthening  every  hour  and  darkening  it ; 
Or  could  we  plant  the  future  where  we  would, 
And  make  it  flourish,  that,  too,  were  to  live. 
But  it  is  not  more  true  that  what  is,  is, 
Than  that  what  is  not,  is  not.     It  is  enough 
To  bear  the  ever  present,  as  we  do. 
The  city  of  the  past  is  laid  in  ruins ; 
Its  echo-echoing  walls  at  a  whisper  fall  : 
The  coming  is  not  yet  built ;  nor  as  yet 
Its  deep  foundations  laid  ;  but  seems,  at  once, 
Like  the  air  city,  goodly  and  well  watered, 
Which  the  dry  wind  doth  dream  of  on  the  sands 
Where  he  dies  away  with  his  wanderings : 
While  we  enjoy  the  hope  thereof,  and  perish ; 
Not  seeing  that  the  desert  present  is 
Our  end. 

Festus.    The  brightest  natures  oft  have  darkest 
End,  as  fire  smoke. 

Student.  I  will  read  the  book  in  the  hope 

Of  learning  somewhat  from  it. 

Festus.  Thou  may'st  learn 

A  hearty  thanksgiving  for  blessings  here, 
And  proud  prediction  of  a  state  to  come, 
Of  love,  and  life,  and  power  unlimited ; 
And  uttered  in  a  sound  and  homely  tongue, 
Fit  to  be  used  by  all  who  think  while  speaking. 
With  here  and  there  some  old,  hard,  uncouth  words. 
Which  have  withal  a  quaint  and  meaning  richness, 
As  stones  make  more  the  power  of  the  soil. 
The  world  hath  said  its  say  for  and  against ; 
And  after  praise  and  blame  cometh  the  truth. 
Living  men  look  on  all  who  live  askance. 
Were  he  a  cold,  gray  ghost,  he  would  have  honor ; 
And  though  as  man  he  must  have  mixed  with  men, 


266  FESTUS. 

Yet  the,  true  bard  doth  make  himself  ghost-like  ; 

He  lives  apart  from  men ;  he  wakes  and  walks 

By  nights ;  he  puts  himself  into  the  world 

Above  him  ;  and  he  is  what  but  few  see. 

He  knows,  too,  to  the  old  hid  treasure,  truth  : 

And  the  world  wonders,  shortly,  how  some"  one 

Hath  come  so  rich  of  soul ;  it  little  dreams 

Of  the  poor  ghost  that  made  him.     Yet  he  comes 

To  none  save  of  his  own  blood,  and  lets  pass 

Many  a  generation  till  his  like 

Turns  up ;  moreover,  this  same  genius 

Comes,  ghost-like,  to  those  only  who  are  lonely 

In  life  and  in  desire ;  never  to  crowds : 

And  it  can  make  its  way  through  every  thing, 

And  is  never  happy  till  it  tells  its  secret ; 

But  pale  and  pressed  down  with  the  inward  weight 

Of  unborn  works,  it  sickens  nigh  to  death, 

Often ;  but  who  like  happy  at  a  birth  ? 

Student.     Say  what  a  poet  ought  to  do  and  be. 

Festus.     Though   it   may   scarce   become   me, 
knowing  little, 
Yet  what  I  have  thought  out  upon  that  theme, 
And  deem  true,  I  will  tell  thee. 

Helen.  Now  I  know 

You  two  will  talk  of  nothing  else  all  night ; 
So  I  will  to  my  music.     Sweet !  I  come. 
Art  thou  not  glad  to  see  me  ?     What  a  time 
Since  I  have  touched  thine  eloquent  white  fingers. 
Hast  thou  forgot  me  ?     Mind,  now  ?    Know'st  thou 

not 
My  greeting  ?     Ah  !  I  love  thee.     Talk  away ! 
Never  mind  me  ;  I  shall  not  you. 

Student.  Agreed ! 

Helen.    By  the  sweet  muse  of  music,  I  could 
swear 
I  do  believe  it  smiles  upon  me  ;  see  it 
Full  of  unuttered  music,  like  a  bird ; 
Rich  in  invisible  treasures,  like  a  bud 
Of  unborn  sweets,  and  thick  about  the  heart 


FESTUS.  267 

With  ripe  and  rosy  beauty  —  full  to  trembling. 
I  love  it  like  a  sister.     Hark !  —  its  tones  ; 
They  melt  the  soul  within  one  like  a  sword, 
Albeit  sheathed,  by  lightning.     Talk  to  me, 
Lovely  one  !  Answer  me,  thou  beauty ! 

Student.  Hear  her 

Festus.     Experience  and  imagination  are 
Mother  and  sire  of  song  —  the  harp  and  hand. 
The  bard's  aim  is  to  give  us  thoughts :  his  art 
Lieth  in  giving  them  as  bright  as  may  be. 
And  even  when  their  looks  are  earthy,  still 
If  opened,  like  geoids,  they  may  be  found 
Full  of  all  sparkling,  sparry  loveliness. 
They  should  be  wrought,  not  cast  *,  like  tempered 

steel, 
Burned  and  cooled,  burned  again,  and  cooled  again. 
A  thought  is  like  a  ray  of  light  —  complex 
In  nature,  simple  only  in  effect. 
Words   are    the   motes    of   thought,   and    nothing 

more. 
Words  are  like  sea-shells  on  the  shore ;  they  show 
WThere   the   mind   ends,  and   not  how   far  it  has 

been. 
Let  every  thought,  too,  soldier-like,  be  stripped, 
And  roughly  looked  over.     The  dress  of  words, 
Like  to  the  Roman  girl's  enticing  garb, 
Should  let  the  play  of  limb  be  seen  through  it, 
And  the  round,  rising  form.     A  mist  of  words, 
Like  halos  round  the  moon,  though  they  enlarge 
The  seeming  size  of  thoughts,  make  the  light  less 
Doubly.     It  is  the  thought  writ  down  we  want, 
Not  its  effect  —  not  likenesses  of  likenesses. 
And  such  descriptions  are  not,  more  than  gloves 
Instead  of  hands  to  shake,  enough  for  us. 

Student.     But  is  the  power  —  is  poesy  inborn, 
Or  is  it  to  be  gained  by  art  or  toil  ? 
Festus.    It  is  underived,  except  from  God ;  but 
where 
Strongest,  asks  most  of  human  care  and  aid. 


268  FESTUS. 

Great  bards  toil  much  and  most ;  but  most  at  first, 
Ere  they  can  learn  to  concentrate  the  soul 
For  hours  upon  a  thought  to  carry  it. 

Student.     Why,  I  have  sat  for  hours  and  nevei 
moved, 
Saving  my  hands,  clock-like,  in  writing  round 
Day  after  day  of  thought,  and  lapse  of  life. 

Festus.     Many  make  books,  few  poems,  which 
may  do 
Well  for  their  gains,  but  they  do  nought  for  truth, 
Nor  man,  true  bard's  main  aim.     Perish  the  books, 
But  the  creations  live.     Some  steal  a  thought, 
And  clip  it  round  the  edge,  and  challenge  him 
Whose  'twas  to  swear  to  it.     To  serve  things  thus 
Is  as  foul  witches  to  cut  up  old  moons 
Into  new  stars.     Some  never  rise  above 
A  pretty  fault,  like  faulty  dahlias ; 
And  of  whose  best  things  it  is  kindly  said, 
The  thought  is  fair ;  but,  to  be  perfect,  wants 
A  little  heightening,  like  a  pretty  face 
With  a  low  forehead.     Do  thou  more  than  such, 
Or  else  do  nothing.     And  in  poetry, 
There  is  a  poet-worship,  one  of  other 
Which  is  idolatry,  and  not  the  true 
Love-service  of  the  soul  to  God,  which  hath 
Alone  of  His  inbreathing,  and  is  rendered 
Unto  Him,  from  the  first,  without  man's  mean, 
By  those  whom  He  makes  worthy  of  His  worship ; 
Who  kneel  at  once  to  Him,  and  at  no  shrine, 
Save   in   the   world's  wide   ear,    do    they   confess 

them 
Of  faults  which  are  all  truths ;  and  through  which 

ear 
As  the  world  says  them  over  to  itself, 
He  heareth  and  absolveth ;  for  the  bard 
Speaks  but  what  all  feel  more  or  less  within 
The  heart's  heart,  and  the  sin  confessed  is  done 
Away  with,  and  forever. 

Student.  What  of  style  ? 


FESTUS.  2Gi) 

Festus.     There  is  no  style  is  good  but  nature's 
style. 
And  the  great  ancients'  writings,  beside  ours, 
Look  like  illuminated  manuscripts 
Before  plain  press  print ;  all  had  different  minds, 
And  followed  only  their  own  bents :  for  this 
Nor  copied  that,  nor  that  the  other ;  each 
Is  finished  in  his  writing,  each  is  best 
For  his  own  mind,  and  that  it  was  upon ; 
And  all  have  lived,  are  living,  and  shall  live ; 
But  these  have  died,  are  dying,  and  shall  die ; 
Yea,  copyists  shall  die,  spark  out  and  out. 
Minds  which  combine  and  make  alone  can  tell 
The  bearings  and  workings  of  all  things 
In  and  upon  each  other.     All  the  parts 
Of  nature  meet  and  fit :  wit,  wisdom,  worth, 
Goodness  and  greatness ;  to  sublimity 
Beauty  arises,  like  a  planet  world, 
Laboring  slowly,  seemingly,  up  Heaven ; 
But  with  an  infinite  pace  to  some  immortal  eyes. 
And  he  who  means  to  be  a  great  bard,  must 
Measure  himself  against  pure  mind,  and  fling 
His  soul  into  a  stream  of  thought,  as  will 
A  swimmer  hurl  himself  into  the  water. 
But  never  swimmer  on  the  stream,  nor  bird 
On  wind,  feels  half  so  strong,  or  swift,  or  glad, 
As  bard  borne  high  on  his  mind  above  himself; 
As  though  he  should  begin  a  lay  like  this, 
Where  spiritual  element  is  all ; 
Thought  chafing  thought,  as  bough  bough,  till  all 

burn, 
Like  the  star- written  prophecies  of  Heaven. 
The  shattered  shadow  of  eternity 
Upon  the  troubled  world,  even  as  the  sun 
Shows  brokenly  on  wavy  waters,  time  ; 
All  time  is  but  a  second  to  the  dead. 
The  smoke  of  the  great  burning  of  the  world 
Had  trailed  across  the  skies  for  many  an  age, 
And  was  fast  wearing  into  air  away, 


270  FESTUS. 

When  a  saint  stood  before  the  throne,  and  cried  — 

Blessed  be  Thou,  Lord  God  of  all  the  worlds 

That  have  been,  and  that  are,  and  are  to  be  ! 

For  Thy  destruction  is  like  infinite 

With  Thy  creation,  just  and  wise  in  both  : 

Give  me  a  world ;  and  God  said,  Be  it  so  : 

And  the  world  was :  and  then  go  on  to  show 

How  this  new  orb  was  made,  and  where  it  shone ; 

Who  ruled,  abode,  worshipped  and  loved  therein ; 

Their  natures,  duties,  hopes  :  let  it  be  pure, 

Wise,  holy,  beautiful ;  if  not  to  be 

AVithout  it,  made  so  by  constraint  of  God  — 

Kindly  forced  good  :  we  have  had  enough  of  sin 

And  folly  here  to  wish  for  and  love  change. 

Let  him  show  God  as  going  thither  mildly, 

Father-like,  blessing  all  and  cursing  none  ; 

And  that  there  never  will  be  need  for  them 

That  He  shall  come  in  glory  new  to  Himself, 

With  light  to  which  the  lightning  shall  be  shadow, 

And  the  sun  sadness ;  borne  upon  a  car 

With  wheels  of  burning  worlds,  within  whose  rims 

Whole  hells  burn,  and  beneath  whose  course  the 

stars 
Dry  up  like  dew-drops.     But  of  this  enough ; 
I  mean  that  he  must  weigh  himself  as  he 
Will  be  weighed  after  by  posterity ; 
After  us  all  are  critics,  to  a  man. 
Write  to  the  mind  and  heart,  and  let  the  ear 
Glean  after  what  it  can.     The  voice  of  great 
Or  graceful  thoughts  is  sweeter  far  than  all 
Word-music  ;  and  great  thoughts,  like  great  deeds, 

need 
No  trumpet.     Never  be  in  haste  in  writing. 
Let  that  thou  utterest  be  of  nature's  flow, 
Not  art's  ;  a  fountain's,  not  a  pump's.     But  once 
Begun,  work  thou  all  things  into  thy  work ; 
And  set  thyself  about  it,  as  the  sea 
About  earth,  lashing  at  it  day  and  night. 
And  leave  the  stamp  of  thine  own  soul  in  it 


FESTUS.  271 

As  thorough  as  the  fossil  flower  in  clay. 
The  theme  shall  start  and  struggle  in  thy  breast, 
Like  to  a  spirit  in  its  tomb  at  rising, 
Rending  the  stones,  and  crying,  Resurrection  ! 

Student.     What  theme  remains  ? 

.Festus.  Thyself,  thy  race,  thy  love, 

The  faithless  and  the  full  of  faith  in  God ; 
Thy  race's  destiny,  thy  sacred  love. 
Every  believer  is  God's  miracle. 
Nothing  will  stand  whose  staple  is  not  love ; 
The  love  of  God,  or  man,  or  lovely  woman  ; 
The  first  is  scarcely  touched,  the  next  scarce  felt, 
The  third  is  desecrated ;  lift  it  up  ; 
Redeem  it,  hallow  it,  blend  the  three  in  one 
Great  holy  work.     It  shall  be  read  in  Heaven 
By  all  the  saved  of  sinners  of  all  time ; 
Preachers  shall  point  to  it,  and  tell  their  wards 
It  is  a  handful  of  eternal  truth ; 
Make  ye  a  heartful  of  it :  men  shall  will 
That  it  be  buried  with  them  in  their  hands: 
The  young,  the  gay,  the  innocent,  the  brave, 
The  fair,  with  soul  and  body  both  all  love, 
Shall  run  to  it  with  joy  ;  and  the  old  man, 
Still  hearty  in  decline,  whose  happy  life 
Hath  blossomed  downwards,  like  the  purple  bell- 
flower, 
Closing  the  book,  shall  utter  lowlily  — 
Death,  thou  art  infinite,  it  is  life  is  little. 
Believe  thou  art  inspired,  and  thou  art. 
Look  at  the  bard  and  others ;  never  heed 
The  petty  hints  of  envy.     If  a  fault 
It  be  in  bard  todeem  himself  inspired, 
'Tis  one  which  hath  had  many  followers 
Before  him.     He  is  wont  to  make,  unite, 
Believe ;  the  world  to  part,  and  doubt,  and  narrow. 
That  he  believes,  he  utters.     What  the  world 
Utters,  it  trusts  not.     But  the  time  may  come 
When  all,  along  with  those  who  seek  to  raise 
Men's  minds,  and  have  enough  of  pain,  without 


272  FESTUS. 

Suffering  from  envy,  may  be  God-inspired 
To  utter  truth,  and  feel  like  love  for  men. 
Poets  are  henceforth  the  world's  teachers.     Still 
The  world  is  all  in  sects,  which  makes  one  loathe  it. 

Student.     The  men   of  mind  are  mountains, 
and  their  heads 
Are  sunned  long  ere  the  rest  of  earth.     I  would 
Be  one  such. 

Festus.       It  is  well.     Burn  to  be  great. 
Pay  not  thy  praise  to  lofty  things  alone. 
The  plains  are  everlasting  as  the  hills. 
The  bard  cannot  have  two  pursuits :  aught  else 
Comes  on  the  mind  with  the  like  shock  as  though 
Two  worlds  had  gone  to  war  and  met  in  air. 
And  now  that  thou  hast  heard  thus  much  from  one 
Not  wont  to  seek,  nor  give,  nor  take  advice, 
Bemember,  whatsoe'er  thou  art  as  man, 
Suffer  the  world,  entreat  it  and  forgive. 
They  who  forgive  most  shall  be  most  forgiven. 
Dear  Helen,  I  will  tell  thee  what  I  love 
Next  to  thee — poesy. 

Helen.  Can  any  thing 

Be  even  second  to  me  in  thy  love  ? 
Doth  it  not  distance  all  things  ? 

Festus.  To  say  sooth, 

I'once  loved  many  things  ere  I  met  with  thee, 
My  one  blue  break  of  beauty  in  the  clouds ; 
Bending  thyself  to  me  as  Heaven  to  earth. 

Helen.     My  love  is  like  the  moon,  seems  now 
to  grow, 
And  now  to  lessen  ;  but  it  is  only  so 
Because  thou  canst  not  see  it  all  at  once. 
It  knows  nor  day,  nor  morrow,  like  the  sun  ; 
Unchangeable  as  space  it  shall  still  be 
When  yon  bright  suns,  which  are  themselves  but 

sands 
In  the  great  glass  of  Time,  shall  be  run  out 

Festjjs.     Man  is  but  half  man  without  woman ; 
and 


FESTUS.  273 

As  do  idolaters  their  lieavenless  gods, 
We  deify  the  things  which  we  adore. 

Helen.     Our  life  is  comely  as  a  whole ;  nay, 
more, 
Like  rich  brown  ringlets,  with  odd  hairs  all  gold. 
We  women  have  four  seasons,  like  the  year, 
Our  spring  is  in  our  lightsome  girlish  days, 
When  the  heart  laughs  within  us  for  sheer  joy  ; 
Ere  yet  we  know  what  love  is  or  the  ill 
Of  being  loved  by  those  whom  we  love  not. 
Summer  is  when  we  love  and  are  beloved, 
And  seems  short ;  from  its  very  splendor  seems 
To  pass  the  quickest ;  crowned  with  flowers  it  flies. 
Autumn,  when  some  young  thing  with  tiny  hands, 
And  rosy  cheeks,  and  flossy  tendrilled  locks, 
Is  wantoning  about  us  day  and  night. 
And  winter  is  when  these  we  love  have  perished ; 
For  the  heart  ices  then.     And  the  next  spring 
Is  in  another  world,  if  one  there  be. 
Some  miss  one  season,  some  another ;  this 
Shall  have  them  early,  and  that  late ;  and  yet 
The  year  wear  round  with  all  as  best  it  may. 
There  is  no  rule  for  it ;  but  in  the  main 
It  is  as  I  have  said. 

Festus.  My  life  with  thee 

Is  like  a  song,  and  the  sweet  music  thou, 
Which  doth  accompany  it. 

Student.  Say,  did  thy  friend 

Write  aught  beside  the  work  thou  tellest  of? 

Festus.  Nothing. 

After  that,  like  the  burning  peak,  he  fell 
Into  himself,  and  was  missing  ever  after. 

Student.    If  not  a  secret,  pray  who  was  he  ? 

Festus.  I. 


274  FESTUS. 

Scene  —  Garden  and  Bower  by  the  Sea. 
Lucifer  and  Elissa. 

Lucifer.     Night  comes,  world-jewelled,  as  my 
bride  should  be. 
The  stars  rush  forth  in  myriads  as  to  wage 
War  with  the  lines  of  Darkness  ;  and  the  moon, 
Pale  ghost  of  Night,  comes  haunting  the  cold  earth 
After  the  sun's  red  sea-death  —  quietless. 
Immortal  Night !  I  love  thee.     Thou  and  I 
Are  of  one  seed  —  the  eldest  blood  of  God. 
He  makes  ;  we  mar  together  all  things  —  all 
But  our  own  selves.     Love  makes  thee  cold  and 

tremble, 
And  me  all  fire.     Do  off  that  starry  robe  ; 
Catch  me  up  to  thee.     Let  us  love,  and  die, 
And  weld  our  souls  together,  Night !     But  here 
Cometh  mine  earthly.     My  Elissa  !  welcome. 

Elissa.    Is't  not  a  lovely,  nay,  a  heavenly  eve  ? 

Lucifer.     Thy  presence  only  makes  it  so  to  me. 
The  moments  thou  art  with  me  are  like  stars 
Peering  through  my  dark  life. 

Elissa.  Nay,  speak  not  so, 

Or  I  shall  weep,  and  thou  wilt  turn  away 
From  woman's  tears  :*  yet  are  they  woman's  wealth. 

Lucifer.     Then   keep  thy  treasures,  lady!     I 
would  not  have 
The  world,  if  prized  at  one  sad  tear  of  thine. 
One  tear  of  beauty  can  outweigh  a  world 
Even  of  sin  and  sorrow,  heavy  as  this  ; 
But  beauty  cannot  sin  and  should  not  weep, 
For  she  is  mortal.     Oh  !  let  deathless  things 
Alone  weep.     Why  should  aught  that  dies  be  sad  ? 

Elissa.     The  noble  mind  is  oft  too  generous, 
And,  by  protecting,  weakens  lesser  ones ; 
And    tears    must  come    of   feeling    though   they 

quench 
As  oft  the  light  which  love  lit  in  the  eye. 


FESTUS.  275 

Lucifer.     And  thy  love  ever  hangs  about  my 
heart 
Like  the  pure  pearl-wreath  which  enrings  thy  brow. 
I  meant  not  to  be  mournful.     Tell  me,  now, 
How  thou  hast  passed  the  hours  since  last  we  met  ? 

Elissa.     I  have  stayed  the  livelong  day  within 
this  bower ; 
It  was  here  that  thou  didst  promise  me  to  come  — 
Watching  from  wanton  morn  to  repentant  eve, 
The  self-same  roses  ope  and  close ;  untired, 
Listening  the  same  bird's  first  and  latest  songs  — 
And  still  thou  earnest  not.     To  the  mind  which  waits 
Upon  one  hour,  the  others  are  but  slaves. 
The  week  hath  but  one  day  —  the  day  one  hour  — 
That  hour  of  the  heart  —  that  lord  of  time. 

Lucifer.     Sweet  one  !     I  raced  with  light  and 
passed  the  laggard 
To  meet  thee  —  or,  I  mean  I  could  have  done  — • 
Yea,  have  outsped  the  very  dart  of  Death  — ■ 
So  much  I  sought ;  and  were  I  living  light 
From  God,  with  leave  to  range  the  world,  and  choose 
Another  brow  than  His  whereon  to  beam  — 
To  mark  what  even  an  angel  could  but  covet  — 
A  something  lovelier  than  Heaven's  loveliness  — 
To  thee  I  straight  would  dart,  unheeding  all 
The  lives  of  other  worlds,  even  those  who  name 
Themselves  thy  kind  ;  for  oft  my  mind  o'ersoars 
The  stars  ;  and  pondering  upon  what  may  be 
Of  their  chief  lording  natures,  man's  seems  worst  — 
The   darkest,   meanest,   which,   through   all    these 

worlds, 
Drags  what  is  deathless,  may  be,  down  to  dust. 

Elissa.     Speak  not  so  bitterly  of  human  kind ; 
I  know  that  thou  dost  love  it.     Hast  not  heard 
Of  those  great  spirits,  who,  the  greater  grow, 
The  better  we  are  able  them  to  prize  V 
Great  minds  can  never  cease  ;  yet  have  they  not 
A  separate  estate  of  deathlessness  : 
The  future  is  a  remnant  of  their  life : 


276  FESTUS. 

Our  time  is  part  of  theirs,  not  theirs  of  ours  : 
They  know  the  thoughts  of  ages  long  before. 
It  is  not  the  weak  mind  feels  the  great  mind's  might ; 
None  but  the  great  can  test  it.     Does  the  oak 
Or  reed  feel  the  strong  storm  most  ?     Oh  !  unsay 
What  thou  hast  said  of  man  ;  nor  deem  me  wrong. 
Mind  cannot  mind  despise  —  it  is  itself. 
Mind  must  love  mind  :  the  great  and  good  are  friends ; 
And  he  is  but  half  great  who  is  not  good. 
And,  oh  !  humanity  is  the  fairest  flower 
Blooming  in  earthly  breasts :  so  sweet  and  pure, 
That  it  might  freshen  even  the  fadeless  wreaths 
Twined  round  the  golden  harps  of  those  in  Heaven. 

Lucifer.     For  thy  sake  I  will  love  even  man, 
or  aught. 
Spirit  were  I,  and  a  mere  mortal  thou, 
For  thy  sake  I  would  even  seek  to  die  ; 
That,  dead,  or  living,  I  might  still  be  with  thee. 
But  no  !  I'll  deem  thee  deathless — mind  and  make, 
And  worthier  of  some  spirit's  love  than  mine ; 
Yea,  of  the  first-born  of  God's  sons,  could  he 
In  that  sweet  shade  thy  beauty  casts  o'er  all, 
One  moment  lay  and  cool  his  burning  soul ; 
Or  might  the  ark  of  his  wide  flood-like  woe 
But  rest  upon  that  mount  of  peace  and  bliss — ■ 
Thy  heart  imbosomed  in  all  beauteousness. 
Nay,  lady  !  shrink  not.     Thinkest  thou  I  am  he  ? 

Elissa.     Thou  art  too  noble,  far.     I  oft  have 
wished, 
Ere  I  knew  thee,  I  had  some  spirit's  love  ; 
But  thou  art  more  like  what  I  sought  than  man, 
And  a  forbidden  quest,  it  seems  ;  for  thou 
Hast  more  of  awe  than  love  about  thee,  like 
The  mystery  of  dreams  which  we  can  feel, 
But  cannot  touch. 

Lucifer.     Nay,  think  not  so !     It  is  wrong. 
Come,  let  us  sit  in  this  thy  favorite  bower, 
And  I  will  hear  thee  sing.    I  love  that  voice, 
Dipping  more  softly  on  the  subject  ear 


FESTUS.  ?77 

Than  that  calm  kiss  the  willow  gives  the  wave  — 
A  soft  rich  tone,  a  rainbow  of  sweet  sounds, 
Just  spanning  the  soothed  sense.     Come,  nay  me 
not. 
Elissa.     Do  thou  lead  out  some  lay;  I'll  fol- 
low thine. 
Lucifer.     Well,   I  agree.     It  will  spare  me 
much  of  shame 
In  coming  after  thee.     My  song  is  said 
Of  Lucifer,  the  star.     See  there  he  shines.    [Sings. 

I  am  Lucifer,  the  star : 

Oh  !  think  on  me, 
As  I  lighten  from  afar 

The  Heavens  and  thee  ! 
In  town,  or  tower, 
Or  this  fair  bower, 

Oh  !  think  on  me ; 
Though  a  wandering  star, 
As  the  loveliest  are, 

I  love  but  thee. 

Lady !   When  I  brightest  beam, 

Love  !  look  on  me  ! 
I  am  not  what  I  may  seem 

To  the  world  or  thee  ,* 
But  fain  would  love 
With  thee  above, 

Where  thou  wilt  be. 
But  if  love  be  a  dream, 
As  the  world  doth  deem, 

What  is 't  to  me  ? 

Elissa.      Could  we    but  deem  the   stars  had 
hearts,  and  loved, 
They  would  seem  happier,  holier,  even  than  now ; 
And  ah !  why  not  ?  they  are  so  beautiful ; 
And  love  is  part  and  union  in  itself 
Of  all  that  is  in  nature  brilliant,  pure  — 


278  FESTUS. 

Of  all  in  feeling  sacred  and  sublime. 
Surely  the  stars  are  images  of  love  : 
The  sunbeam  and  the  starbeam  doth  bring  love. 
The  sky,  the  sea,  the  rainbow,  and  the  stream 
And  dark  blue  hill,  where  all  the  loveliness 
Of  earth  and  Heaven,  in  sweet  ecstatic  strife, 
Seem  mingling  hues  which  might  immortal  be, 
If  length  of  life  by  height  of  beauty  went : 
All  seem  but  made  for  love  —  love  made  for  all : 
We  do  become  all  heart  with  those  we  love : 
It  is  nature's  self — it  is  everywhere  — it  is  here. 
Lucifer.     To  me  there  is  but  one  place  in  the 
world, 
And  that  where  thou  art ;  for  where'er  I  be, 
Thy  love  doth  seek  its  way  into  my  heart, 
As  will  a  bird  into  her  secret  nest ; 
Then  sit  and  sing ;  sweet  wing  of  beauty,  sing. 
Elissa.     Bright  one  !  who  dwellest  in  the  hap- 
py skies, 
Rejoicing  in  thy  light  as  does  the  brave, 
In  his  keen,  flashing  sword,  and  his  strong  arm's 
Swift  swoop,  canst  thou  from  among  the  sons  of 

men, 
Single  out  those  who  love  thee  as  do  I 
Thee  from  thy  fellow  glories  ?     If  so,  star, 
Turn  hither  thy  bright  front ;  I  love  thee,  friend. 
Thou  hast  no  deeds  of  darkness.     All  thou  dost 
Is  to  us  light  and  beauty :  yea,  thou  art 
A  globe  all  glory ;  thou  who  at  the  first 
Didst  answer  to  the  angels  which  in  Heaven 
Sang  the  bright  birth  of  earth,  and  even  now, 
As  star  by  star  is  born,  dost  sing  the  same 
With  countless  hosts  in  infinite  delight, 
Be  unto  me  a  moment !     Write  thy  bright 
Light  on  my  heart  before  the  sun  shall  rise 
And  vanquish  sight.     Thou  art  the  prophecy 
Of  light  which  He  fulfils.     Speak,  shining  star, 
Drop  from  thy  golden  lips  the  truths  of  Heaven ; 
First  of  all  stars  and  favorite  of  the  skies, 


FESTUS.  279 

Apostle  of  the  sun  —  thou  upon  whom 

His  mantle  resteth  —  speak,  prophetic  beauty ! 

Speak,  shining  star  out  of  the  heights  of  Heaven, 

Beautiful  being,  speak  to  God  for  man ! 

Is  it  because  of  beauty  thou  wast  chosen 

To  be  the  sign  of  sin  ?     For  surely  sin 

Must  be  surpassing  lovely  when  for  her 

Men  forfeit  God's  reward  of  deathless  bliss 

And  life  divine ;  or,  is  it  that  such  beauty, 

Sometimes,  before  the  truth,  and  sometimes  after, 

As  .is  a  moral  or  a  prophecy, 

Is  ever  warning  ?     Why  wast  thou  accorded 

To  the  great  Evil  ?     Is  it  because  thou  art 

Of  all  the  sun's  bright  servants  nearest  earth  ? 

And  shall  we  then  forget  that  Christ  hath  said 

He  is  thyself,  the  light-bringer  of  Heaven  ? 

Star  of  the  morning !  unto  us  thou  art 

The  presage  of  a  day  of  power.     Like  thee 

Let  us  rejoice  in  life,  then,  and  proclaim 

A  glory  coming  greater  than  our  own. 

All  ages  are  but  stars  to  that  which  comes, 

Sunlike.    Oh !  speak,  star  !     Lift  thou  up  thy  voice 

Out  of  yon  radiant  ranks,  and  I  on  earth, 

As  thou  in  Heaven,  will  bless  the  Lord  God  ever. 

Hear,  Lucifer,  thou  star !  I  answer  thee.        [Sings. 

Oh !  ask  me  not  to  look  and  love, 

But  bid  me  worship  thee ; 
For  thou  art  earthly  things  above, 

As  far  as  angels  be  : 
Then  whether  in  the  eve  or  morn 
Thou  dpst  the  maiden  skies  adorn, 

Oh !  let  me  worship  thee  ! 

I  am  but  as  this  drop  of  dew ; 

Oh  !  let  me  worship  thee  ! 
Thy  light,  thy  strength,  is  ever  new, 

Even  as  the  angels'  be  ; 


280  FESTUS. 

And  as  this  dew-drop,  till  it  dies, 
Bosoms  the  golden  stars  and  skies, 
Oh !  let  me  worship  thee ! 

But,  dearest,  why  that  dark  look  ? 

Lucifer.  Let  it  not 

Cloud  thine  even  with  its  shadow  :  but  the  ground 
Of  all  great  thoughts  is  sadness  ;  and  I  mused 
Upon  past  happiness.     Well  —  be  it  past ! 
Did  Lucifer,  as  I  do,  gaze  on  thee, 
The  flame  of  woe  would  flicker  in  his  breast, 
And  straight  die  out  —  the  brightness  of  thy  beauty 
Quenching  it  as  the  sun  doth  earthly  fire. 

Elissa.     Nay,  look  not  on  me  so  intensely  sad. 

Lucifer.    Forgive  me  :  it  was  an  agony  of  bliss. 
I  love  thee,  and  am  full  of  happiness. 
My  bosom  bounds  beneath  thy  smile  as  doth 
The  sea's  unto  the  moon,  his  mighty  mistress  ; 
Lying  and  looking  up  to  her,  and  saying  — 
Lovely !  lovely !  lovely  !  lady  of  the  Heavens  ! 
Oh  !  when  the  thoughts  of  other  joyous  days  — 
Perchance,  if  such  may  be,  of  happier  times  — 
Are  falling  gently  on  the  memory 
Like  autumn  leaves  distained  with  dusky  gold, 
Yet  softly  as  a  snowflake  ;  and  the  smile 
Of  kindliness,  like  thine,  is  beaming  on  me  — 
Oh  !  pardon,  if  I  lose  myself,  nor  know 
Whether  I  be  with  Heaven  or  thee. 

Elissa.  Use  not 

Such  ardent  phrase,  nor  mix  the  claim  of  aught 
On  earth  with  thoughts  more  than  with  hopes  of 
Heaven. 

Lucifer.     Hopes,  lady !  I  have  none. 

Elissa.  Thou  must  have.     All 

Have  hopes,  however  wretched  they  may  be, 
Or  blest.     It  is  hope  which  lifts  the  lark  so  high  — 
Hope  of  a  lighter  air  and  bluer  sky : 
And  the   poor   hack   which   drops   down   on    the 
flints  — 


FESTUS.  281 

Upon  whose  eye  the  dust  is  settling  — 
He  hopes  to  die.     No  being  is  which  hath 
Not  love  and  hope. 

Lucifer.  Yes  —  one !     The  ancient  111, 

Dwelling  and  damned  through  all  which  is;   that 

spirit 
Whose  heart  is  hate  —  who  is  the  foe  of  God  — 
The  foe  of  all. 

Eliss A.     How  knowest  thou  such  doth  live  ? 
Love  is  the  happy  privilege  of  mind  — 
Love  is  the  reason  of  all  living  things. 
A  Trinity  there  seems  of  principles, 
Which  represent  and  rule  created  life  — 
The  love  of  self,  our  fellows,  and  our  God. 
In  all  throughout  one  common  feeling  reigns : 
Each  doth  maintain  and  is  maintained  by  the  other ; 
All  are  compatible  —  all  needful ;  one 
To  life  —  to  virtue  one  —  and  one  to  bliss  ; 
Which  thus  together  make  the  power,  the  end, 
And  the  perfection  of"  created  Being. 
From  these  three  principles  doth  every  deed, 
Desire,  and  will,  and  reasoning,  good  or  bad,  come  ; 
To  these  they  all  determine  —  sum  and  scheme : 
The  three  are  one  in  centre  and  in  round ; 
Wrapping  the  world  of  life  as  do  the  skies 
Our  world.     Hail !  air  of  love,  by  which  we  live  .r 
How  sweet,  how  fragrant !    Spirit,  though  unseen  —• 
Void  of  gross  sign  —  is  scarce  a  simple  essence, 
Immortal,  immaterial,  though  it  be. 
One  only  simple  essence  liveth  —  God  — 
Creator,  uncreate.     The  brutes  beneath, 
The  angels  high  above  us,  with  ourselves, 
Are  but  compounded  things  of  mind  and  form. 
In  all  things  animate  is  therefore  cored 
An  elemental  sameness  of  existence ; 
For  God,  being  Love,  in  love  created  all, 
As  He  contains  the  whole,  and  penetrates. 
Seraphs  love  God,  and  angels  love  the  good : 
We  love  each  other ;  and  these  lower  lives, 


282  FESTUS. 

Which  walk  the  earth  in  thousand  diverse  shapes, 

According  to  their  reason,  love  us  too  : 

The  most  intelligent  affect  us  most. 

Nay,  man's  chief  wisdom 's  love  —  the  love  of  God. 

The  new  religion  —  final  perfect,  pure  — 

Was  that  of  Christ  and  love.    His  great  command  — 

His  all-sufficing  precept  —  was't  not  love  ? 

Truly  to  love  ourselves  we  must  love  God  — 

To  love  God  we  must  all  His  creatures  love  — 

To  love  His  creatures,  both  ourselves  and  Him. 

Thus  love  is  all  that 's  wise,  fair,  good,  and  happy. 

Lucifer.     How  knowest  thou  God  doth  live  ? 
Why  did  He  not, 
With  that  creating  hand  which  sprinkled  stars 
On  space's  bosom,  bidding  her  breathe  and  wake 
From  the  long  death-like  trance  in  which  she  lay,  — ■ 
With  that  same  hand  which  scattered  o'er  the  sky, 
As  this  small  dust  I  strew  upon  the  wind, 
Yon  countless  orbs,  aye  fixing  each  on  Him 
Its  flaming  eye,  which  winks  and  blenches  oft 
Beneath  His  glance,  —  with  the  finger  of  that  hand 
Which  spangled  o'er  infinity  with  suns, 
And  wrapped  it  round  about  Him  as  a  robe,  — 
Why  did  He  not  write  out  his  own  great  name 
In  spheres  of  fire,  that  Heaven  might  alway  tell 
To  every  creature,  God  ?     If  not,  then  why 
Should  I  believe  when  I  behold  around  me 
Nought  scarce,  save  iii  and  woe  ? 

Elissa.  God  surely  lives 

Without  God  all  things  are  in  tunnel  darkness. 
Let  there  be  God,  and  all  are  sun  —  all  God. 
And  to  the  just  soul,  in  a  future  state, 
Defect's  dark  mist,  thick-spreading  o'er  this  vale, 
Shall  dim  the  eye  no  more,  nor  bound  survey ; 
And  evil,  now  which  boweth  being  down 
As  dew  the  grass,  shall  only  fit  all  life 
For  fresher  growth  and  for  intenser  day, 
Where  God  shall  dry  all  tears  as  the  sun  dew. 

Lucifer.     Oh !  lady,  I  am  wretched. 


FESTUS.  SH 

Elissa.  i  Say  not  so. 

With  thee  I  could  not  deem  myself  unhappy. 
Hark  to  the  sea !     It  sounds  like  the  near  hum 
Of  a  great  city. 

Lucifer.  Say,  the  city  earth ; 

For  such  these  orbs  are  in  the  realms  of  space. 

Elissa.     I  dreamed  once  that  the  night  came 
down  to  me ; 
In  figure,  oh !  too  like  thine  own  for  truth, 
And  looked  into  me  with  his  thousand  eyes, 
And  that  made  me  unhappy ;  but  it  passed, 
And  I  half  wished  it  back.     Mind  hath  its  earth 
And  Heaven.     The  many  petty,  common  thoughts 
On  which  we  daily  tread,  as  it  were,  make  one, 
And  above  which  few  look  ;  the  other  is 
That  high  and  welkin-like  infinity  — 
The  brighter,  upper  half  of  the  mind's  world, 
Thick  with  great  sun-like  and  constellate  thoughts ; 
And  in  the  night  of  mind,  which  is  our  sleep, 
These    thoughts    shine   out  in   dreams.     Dreams 

double  life ; 
They  are  the  heart's  bright  shadow  on  life's  flood ; 
And  even  the  step  from  death  to  deathlessness  — 
From  this  earth's  gross  existence  unto  Heaven  — 
Can  scarce  be  more  than  from  the  harsh  hot  day 
To  sleep's  soft  scenes,  the  moonlight  of  the  mind. 
The  wave  is  never  weary  of  the  wind, 
But  in  mountainous  playfulness  leaps  to  it 
Always  ;  but  mind  gets  weary  of  the  world, 
And  glooms  itself  in  sleep,  like  a  sweet  smile, 
Line  by  line,  settling  into  proper  sadness ; 
For  sleep  seems  part  of  our  immortality : 
And  why  should  any  thing  that  dies  be  sad  ? 
Last  night  I  dreamed  I  walked  within  a  hall  — 
The  inside  of  the  world.     Long  shroud-like  lights 
Lit  up  its  lift-like  dome  and  pale,  wide  walls, 
Horizon-like  ;  and  every  one  was  there  : 
It  was  the  house  of  Death,  and  Death  was  there. 
We  could  not  see  him,  but  he  was  a  leeling : 


284  FESTUS. 

We  knew  he  was  around  us  —  he^rd  us  —  eyed  us ; 
But  where  wast  thou  ?     I  never  met  thee  once. 
And  all  was  still  as  nothing ;  or  as  God, 
Deep  judging,  when  the  thought  of  making  first 
Quickened  and  stirred  within  Him  ;  and  He  made 
All  Heaven  at  one  thought  as  at  a  glance. 
Noise  was  there  none ;  and  yet  there  was  a  sound 
Which  seemed  to  be  half  like  silence,  half  like 

sound. 
All  crept  about  still  as  the  cold  wet  worms, 
Which  slid  among  our  feet,  we  could  not  scape  from. 
Round  me  were  ruined  fragments  of  dead  gods  — 
Those  shadows  of  the  mystery  of  One  — 
And  the  red  worms,  too,  flourished  over  these, 
For  marble  is  a  shadow  weighed  with  mind  ; 
Each  being,  as  men  of  old  believed,  distinct 
"In  iorm,  and  place,  and  power.     But  Oh  !  not  all 
The  gathered  gods  of  Eld  could  shine  like  ours, 
No  more  than  all  yon  stars  could  make  a  sun. 
But  truly  then  men  lived  in  moral  night, 
'Neath  a  dim  starlight  of  religious  truth. 
I  felt  my  spirit's  spring  gush  out  more  clear, 
Gazing  on  these  :  they  beautified  my  mind 
As  rocks  and  flowers  reflected  do  a  well. 
Mind  makes  itself  like  that  it  lives  amidst, 
And  on  ;  and  thus,  among  dreams,  imaginings, 
And  scenes  of  awe,  and  purity,  and  power, 
Grows  sternly  sweet  and  calm  —  all  beautiful 
With  god-like  coldness  and  unconsciousness 
Of  mortal  passion,  mental  toil ;  until, 
Like  to  the  marble  model  of  a  god, 
It  doth  assume  a  firm  and  dazzling  form, 
Scarcely  less  incorruptible  than  that 
It  emblems  :  and  so  grew,  methought,  my  mind. 
Matter  hath  many  qualities ;  mind,  one  : 
It  is  irresistible  :  pure  power  —  pure  god. 
While  wandering  on  I  met  what  seemed  myself: 
Was  it  not  strange  that  we  should  meet,  and  there  ? 
But  all  is  strange  in  dreaming,  as  in  death, 


FESTUS.  285 

And  waking,  as  in  life  :  nought  is  not  strange. 

Methought  that  I  was  happy,  becaase  dead. 

All  hurried  to  and  fro  ;  and  many  cried 

To  each  other  —  Can  I  do  thee  any  good  ? 

But  no  one  heeded :  nothing  could  avail : 

The  world  was  one  great  grave.     I  looked,  and  saw 

Time  on  his  two  great  wings  —  one,  night  —  one, 

day  — 
Fly,  moth-like,  right  into  the  flickering  sun  ; 
So  that  the  sun  went  out,  and  they  both  perished. 
And  one  gat  up  and  spake  —  a  holy  man  — 
Exhorting  them  ;  but  each  and  all  cried  out  — 
Go  to  !  —  it  helps  not  —  means  not :  we  are  dead. 
Death  spake  no  word  methought,  but  me  he  made 
Speak  for  him  :  and  I  dreamed  that  I  was  Death ; 
Then,  that  Death  only  lived  :  all  things  were  mixed ; 
Up  and  down  shooting,  like  the  brain's  fierce  dance 
In  a  delirium,  when  we  are  apt  to  die. 
Hell  is  my  heir  ;  what  kin  to  me  is  Heaven  ? 
Bring  out  your  hearts  before  me.     Give  your  limbs 
To  whom  ye  list  or  love.     My  son,  Decay 
Will  take  them :  give  them  him.     I  want  your  hearts, 
That  I  may  take  them  up  to  God.     There  came 
These  words  among  us,  but  we  knew  not  whence ; 
It  was  as  if  the  air  spake.     And  there  rose 
Out  of  the  earth  a  giant  thing,  all  earth  ; 
His  eye  was  earthy,  and  his  arm  was  earthy : 
He  had  no  heart.     He  but  said,  I  am  Decay  ; 
And,  as  he  spake,  he  crumbled  into  earth, 
And  there  was  nothing  of  him.     But  we  all 
Lifted  our  faces  up  at  the  word,  God, 
And  spied  a  dark  star  high  above  in  the  midst 
Of  others,  numberless  as  are  the  dead. 
And  all  plucked  out  their  hearts,  and  held  them  in 
Their  right  hands.     Many  tried  to  pick  out  specks 
And  stains,  but  could  not :  each  gave  up  his  heart. 
And    something  —  all    things  —  nothing  —  it    was 

Death, 
Said,  as  before,  from  air  —  Let  us  to  God ! 


286  FESTUS. 

And  straight  we  rose,  leaving  behind  the  raw 
Worms  and  dead  gods,  all  of  us  —  soared  and  soared 
Right  upwards,  till  the  star  I  told  thee  of 
Looked  like  a  moon  —  the  moon  became  a  sun : 
The  sun — there  came  a  hand  between  the  sun  and 

us, 
And  its  five  fingers  made  five  nights  in  air. 
God  tore  the  glory  from  the  sun's  broad  brow, 
And  flung  the  flaming  scalp  off  flat  to  Hell. 
I  saw  Him  do  it ;  and  it  passed  close  by  us. 
And  then  I  heard  a  long,  cold,  skeleton  scream, 
Like  a  trumpet  whining  through  a  catacomb, 
Which  made  the  sides  of  that  great  grave  shake  in. 
I  saw  the  world  and  vision  of  the  dead 
Dim  itself  off —  and  all  was  life  !     I  woke, 
And  felt  the  high  sun  blazoning  on  my  brow 
His  own  almighty  mockery  of  woe, 
And  fierce  and  infinite  laugh  at  things  which  cease. 
Hell  hath  its  light  —  and  Heaven;  he  burns  with 

both. 
And  my  dream  broke,  like  life  from  the  last  limb  — 
Quivering ;  so  loth  I  felt  to  let  it  go, 
Just  as  I  thought  I  had  caught  sight  of  Heaven. 
It  came  to  nought,  as  dreams  of  Heaven  on  earth 
Do  always. 

Lucifer.    It  is  time  we  part  again. 

Elissa.      Farewell,   then,   gentle   stars!      To- 
night, farewell ! 
For  we  all  part  at  once.     It  is  thus  the  bright 
Visions  and  joys  of  youth  break  up  —  but  they 
For  ever.     When  ye  shine  again  I  will 
Be  with  ye ;  for  I  love  ye  next  to  him. 
To  all,  adieu !     When  shall  I  see  thee  next? 

Lucifer.     Lady,  I  know  not. 

Elissa.  Say ! 

Lucifer.  Never!  perchance. 

Elissa.     There  is  but  one  immortal  in  the  world 
Who  need  say  —  never ! 

Lucifer.  What  if  I  were  he  ? 


FESTUS.  287 

Elissa.    But  +,hou  art  not  he ;  and  thou  shalt 
not  say  it. 
Stars  rise  and  set — rise,  set,  and  rise  again 
In  their  sublime-like  beauty  through  all  time. 
Why  should  not  we,  too,  ever  meet,  like  them  ? 

Lucifer.     I  see  no  beauty  —  feel  no  love  —  all 
things 
Are  unlovely. 

Elissa.     O  earth!  be  deaf;  and  Heaven  ! 
Shut  thy  blue  eye.     He  doth  blaspheme  the  world. 
Dost  not  love  me  ? 

Lucifer.     Love  thee  ?  Ay !  Earth  and  Heaven 
Together  could  not  make  a  love  like  mine. 

Elissa.     When   wilt  thou    come   again?     To- 


morrow 


? 


Lucifer.  Well. 

And  then  I  cross  yon  sea  ere  I  return ; 
For  I  have  matters  in  another  land. 
Fear  not. 

Elissa.     When  will  our  parting  days  be  over  ? 

Lucifer.      Oh!    soon  — soon!     Think   of   me 
love,  on  the  waters ! 
Be  happy !  and,  for  me,  I  love  few  things  more 
Than  at  night  to  ride  upon  the  broad-backed  bil- 
low, 
Seaing  along  and  plunging  on  his  precipitous  path ; 
While  the  red  moon  is  westering  low  away, 
And  the  mad  waves  are  fighting  for  the  stars, 
Like  men  for  —  what  they  know  not. 

Elissa.  Scorner ! 

Lucifer.  Saint ! 

Elissa.     The  world  hath  much  that's  great; 
and  but  one  sea, 
Which  is  her  spirit ;  and  to  her  it  stands 
As  the  mad  monarch  passion  to  the  heart  — 
Fathomless,  overwhelming,  which  receives 
The  rivers  of  all  feeling ;  in  whose  depths 
Lie  wrecked  the  riches  of  all  nature.     God, 
When  He  did  make  thee,  moved  upon  thee  then, 


288  FESTUS. 

And  left  His  impress  there,  the  same  even  now 
As  when  the  last  wave  leapt  from  Chaos.  —  Hark ! 
Nay,  there  is  some  one  coming. 

Festus  entering.  It  is  I. 

I  said  we  should  be  sure  to  meet  thee  here  : 
For  I  have  brought  one  who  would  speak  with  thee. 

Lucifer.     Thanks  !  and  where  is  he  ? 

Festus.  Yonder.     He  would  not 

Come  up  so  far  as  this. 

Lucifer.  "Who  is  it  ? 

Festus.  I  know  not 

Who  he  may  be,  or  what;  but  I  can  guess. 

Lucifer.     Remain  a  moment,  love,  till  I  return. 

Elissa.    Nay  —  let  me  leave  ! 

Lucifer.  Not  yet :  do  not  dislike  him. 

He  is  a  friend,  and — more  another  time. 

Festus.     I  am  sorry,  lady,  to  have  caused  this 
parting. 
I  fear  I  am  unwelcome. 

Elissa.  We  were  parting. 

Festus.     Then  am  I  doubly  sorry ;  for  I  know 
It  is  the  saddest  and  the  sacredest 
Moment  of  all  with  those  who  love. 

Elissa.  He  is  coming ! 

So  I  forgive  thee. 

Lucifer.  I  must  leave  thee,  love : 

I  know  not  for  how  long ;  it  rests  with  thee 
If  it  seem  long  at  all.     Eternity 
Might  pass,  and  I  not  know  it  in  thy  love. 

Elissa.     If  to  believe  that  I  do  love  thee  always 
May  make  time  fly  the  fleeter  — 

Lucifer.  I'll  believe  it  — 

Trust  me.     I  leave  this  lady  in  thy  charge, 
Festus.     Be  kind  —  wait  on  her  —  may  he,  love  ? 

Elissa.     Thou  knowest.     I  receive  him  as  thy 
friend 
Whenever  he  come. 

Festus.  I  ask  no  higher  title 

Than  friend  of  the  lovely  and  the  generous. 


FESTUS.  289 

Elissa.    Farewell ! 

Festus.  Lady !  I  will  not  forget  my  trust 

[Apart]  The  breeze  which  curls  the  lake's  bright 

lip  but  lifts 
A  purer,  deeper,  water  to  the  light ; 
The  ruffling  of  the  wild  bird's  wing  but  wakes 
A  warmer  beauty  and  a  downier  depth. 
That  startled  shrink,  that  faintest  blossom-blush 
Of  constancy  alarmed  ! —  Love  !  if  thou  hast 
One  weapon  in  that  shining  armory, 
The  quiver  on  thy  shoulder,  where  thou  keep'st 
Each  arrowy  eye-beam  feathered  with  a  sigh  ;  — 
If  from  that  bow,  shaped  so  like  Beauty's  lip, 
Strung  with   a  string  of  pearls,  thou  wilt  twang 

forth 
But  one  dart,  fair  into  the  mark  I  mean,  — 
Do  it,  and  I  will  worship  thee  for  ever : 
Yea,  I  will  give  thee  glory  and  a  name 
Known,  sunlike,  in  all  nations.     Heart,  be  still ! 

Lucifer.     This  parting  over  — 

Elissa.  Yes,  this  one —  and  then  ? 

Lucifer.    Why,  then  another,  may  be. 

Elissa.  No  —  no  more. 

I  '11  be  unhappy  if  thou  tell'st  me  so. 

Lucifer.     Well,  then — no  more. 

Elissa.  But  when  wilt  thou  come  back  ? 

Lucifer.    Almost  before  thou  wishest.    He  will 
know. 

Elissa.    I  shall  be  always  asking  him.     Fare- 
well !  [  Goes. 

Lucifer.     Shine  on,  ye  stars  !   and  light  her  to 
her  rest ; 
Scarce  are  ye  worthy  for  her  handmaidens. 
Why,  Hell  would  laugh  to  learn  I  had  been  in  love. 
I  have  affairs  in  Hell.     Wilt  go  with  me  ? 

Festus.      Yes,  in  a  month  or  two  :  —  not  just 
this  minute. 

Lucifer.    I  shall  be  there  and  back  again  ere 
then. 

19 


290  FESTUS. 

Festus.  Meanwhile  I  can  amuse  myself:  so,  go ! 
But  sometime  I  would  fain  behold  thy  home, 
And  pass  the  gates  of  fire. 

Lucifer.  And  so  thou  shalt 

My  home  is  everywhere  where  spirit  is. 
All  things  are  as  I  meant  them.    Fare  thee  well. 

[  Goes. 

Festus.   The  strongest  passion  which  I  have  is 
honor : 
I  would  I  had  none :  it  is  in  my  way. 


Scene  —  Everywhere. 
Lucifer  and  Festus. 

Festus.    Why,  earth  is  in  the  very  midst  of 
Heaven ! 
And  space,  though  void  of  things,  feels  full  of  God. 
Hath  space  no  limit  ? 

Lucifer.  None  to  thee.     Yet,  if 

Infinite,  it  would  equal  God ;  and  that 
To  think  of  is  most  vain. 

Festus.  And  yet  if  not 

Infinite  how  can  God  exist  therein  ? 

Lucifer.    I  say  not. 

Festus.    No.     So  soon  when  placed  beside 
The  infinite,  the  poor  immortal  fails. 

Lucifer.    Space  is  God's  space:    Eternity  is 
His 
Eternity ;  His,  Heaven.     He  only  holds 
Perfections  which  are  but  the  impossible 
To  other  beings. 

Festus.  We  are  things  of  time. 

Lucifer.    With  God  time  is  not.  Unto  Him  all  is 
Present  Eternity.     Worlds,  beings,  years, 
With  all  their  natures,  powers,  and  events, 
The  range  whereof  when  making  He  ordains, 
Unfold  themselves  like  flowers.     He  foresees 
Not,  but  sees  all  at  once.     Time  must  not  ha 


FESTUS.  291 

Contrasted  with  Eternity :  't  is  not 

A  second  of  the  everlasting  year. 

Perfections,  although  infinite  with  God, 

Are  all  identical ;  as  much  of  Him  — 

And  holy  is  His  mercy,  merciful 

His  wisdom,  wise  His  love,  and  kind  his  wrath  — 

As  form,  extension,  parts,  are  requisites 

Of  matter.     Spirit  hath  no  parts.     It  is 

One  substance,  whole  and  indivisible, 

Whatever  else.     Souls  see  each  other  clear 

At  one  glance,  as  two  drops  of  rain  in  air 

Might  look  into  each  other,  had  they  life. 

Death  does  away  disguise.     Even  here  I  feel 

Among  these  mighty  things,  that,  as  I  am, 

I  am  akin  to  God ;  —  that  I  am  part 

Of  the  use  universal,  and  can  grasp 

Some  portion  of  that  reason  in  the  which 

The  whole  is  ruled  and  founded ;  —  that  I  have 

A  spirit  nobler  in  its  cause  and  end, 

Lovelier  in  order,  greater  in  its  powers, 

Than  all  these  bright  immensities — how  swift! 

And  doth  creation's  tide  for  ever  flow, 

Nor  ebb  with  like  destruction  ?     World  on  world, 

Are  they  for  ever  heaping  up,  and  still 

The  mighty  measure  never  full  ? 

Lucifer.  To  act 

Is  power's  habit ;  alway  to  create, 
God's ;  which,  thus  ever  causing  worlds,  to  Him 
Nought  cumbrous  more  than  new  down  to  a  wing, 
Aye  multiplies  at  once  my  power  and  pain. 
I  have  seen  many  frames  of  being  pass. 
This  generation  of  the  universe 
Will  soon  be  gathered  to  its  grave.     These  worlds, 
Which  bear  its  sky-pall,  soon  will  follow  thine. 
I,  both.     All  things  must  die. 

Festus.  What  are  ye  orbs  ? 

The  words  of  God  —  the  Scriptures  of  the  skies  ? 
For  words  with  Him  cannot  be  passing,  nor 
Less  real,  vast,  or  glorious,  than  yourselves. 


292  FESTUS. 

The  world  is  a  great  poem,  and  the  worlds 

The  words  it  is  writ  in,  and  we  souls  the  thoughts. 

Ye  cannot  die. 

Lucifer.         Think  not  on  death.     Here  all 
Is  life,  light,  beauty.     Harp  not  so  on  death. 

Festus.    I  cannot  help  me,  spirit!     Chide  no 
more. 
As  who  dare  gaze  the  sun,  doth  after  see 
Betwixt  him  and  else  a  dark  sun  in  his  eye ; 
So  I,  once  having  braved  my  burning  doom, 
See  nought  beside  —  or  that  in  every  thing. 
Hark,  what  is  that  I  hear  ? 

Lucifer.  An  angel  weeping  — 

Earth's  guardian  angel.     She  is  ever  weeping. 

Festus.     See  where  she  flies,  spirit -torn,  round 
the  heavens, 
Like  a  fore-feel  of  madness  about  the  brain. 

Angel  of  Earth.   Stars,  stars ! 
Stop  your  bright  cars ! 
Stint  your  breath  — 
Repent  ere  worse  — 
Think  of  the  death 
Of  the  universe. 
Fear  doom,  and  fear, 
The  fate  of  your  kin-sphere. 
As  a  corse  in  the  tomb, 
Earth  !  thou  art  laid  in  doom : 
The  worm  is  at  thy  heart. 
I  see  all  things  part :  — 
The  bright  air  thicken, 
Thunder-stricken : 
Birds  from  the  sky 
Shower  like  leaves : 
Streamlets  stop 
Like  ice  on  leaves : 
The  sun  go  blind : 
Swoon  the  wind 
On  the  high  hill  top  — 


FESTUS.  2S3 

Swoon  and  die : 

Earth  rear  off  her  cities 

As  a  horse  his  rider ; 

And  still,  with  each  death-strain, 

Her  heart-wound  tear  wider : 

The  lion  roar  and  die 

With  his  eye-balls  on  the  sky: 

The  eagle  scream 

And  drop  like  a  beam : 

Men  crowd  and  cry, 

Out  on  this  deathful  dream ! 

A  low  dull  sound  — 

'Tis  the  march  of  many  bones 

Under  ground ; 

Up !  and  they  fling, 

Like  a  fly's  wing, 

Off  them  the  gray  grave-stones ; 

They  sit  in  their  biers  — 

Father  and  mother, 

Man  and  wife, 

Sister  and  brother, 

As  in  life  ; 

Lady  and  lover  — 

Love  all  over. 

Their  flesh  re-appears  — 

Their  hearts  beat  — 

Their  eyes  have  tears : 

Woe !  woe ! 

Do  they  speak  ? 

Stir?  No! 

Tongues  were  too  weak, 

Save  to  repeat 

Woe ! 

But  they  smile 

In  a  while ; 

For  to  wipe  from  His  word 

The  dust  of  years, 

He  comes !  he  comes !  the  Lord, 

Man- God,  reappears ; 


294  FESTUS. 

To  bless,  and  to  save 

From  death  and  the  grave  — 

To  redeem  and  deliver 

For  ever  and  ever ! 

The  dead  rise  — 

Death  dies. 

Go,  Time,  and  sink 

Thy  great  thoughts  in  the  sea  ! 

And  quench  thy  red  link ! 

Let  him  flutter  to  rest 

On  thy  God-nursing  breast, 

Eternity ! 

Mother  Eternity ! 

What  is  for  me  ? 

Festus.    Poor  angel !     Ah  !  it  is  the  good  who 
suffer. 
Look  !  like  a  cloud,  she  has  wept  herself  away. 
What  of  this  world  we  view,  and  all  yon  worlds  ? 
If  God  made  not  all  things  from  nothing,  how 
Is  He  creator  ?     Something  must  exist 
If  otherwise,  eternal  with  Himself; 
And  all  things  had  not  origin  in  Him. 

Lucifer.    He  made  all  things  of  Him.     The 
visible  world 
Is  as  the  Christ  of  nature  ;  God  the  maker 
In  matter  made  self-manifest  through  time. 
All  things  are  formed  of  all  things  —  all  of  God. 
The  world  is  made  of  wonders.     Every  day 
Is  born  a  new  creation.     Every  orb 
Hath  its  revealed  word ;  and  every  race 
Of  Being  hath  its  judgment,  or  shall  have. 

Festus.     Are  all  these  worlds,  then,  stocked 
with  souls  like  man's  — 
Free,  fallible,  and  sinful? 

Lucifer.  Ay,  they  are. 

All  creature-minds,  like  man's,  are  fallible. 
The  seraph  who  in  Heaven  highest  stands 
May  fall  to  ruin  deepest.     God  is  mind  — 


FESTUS.  295 

Pure,  perfect,  sinless.     Man  imperfect  is  — 

Momently  sinning.     Evil  then  results 

From  imperfection.     The  idea  of  good 

Is  owned  in  imperfection's  lowest  form. 

God  would  not,  could  not,  make  aught  wholly  ill, 

Nor  aught  not  like  to  err.     Man  never  was 

Perfect  nor  pure,  or  he  would  be  so  now. 

Thy  nature  hath  some  excellences  —  these 

Oft  thwarted  by  low  lusts  and  wicked  wills. 

What  then  ?     They  are  necessitate  in  kind, 

As  change  in  nature,  or  as  shade  to  light. 

No  darkness  hath  the  sun  —  no  weakness  God : 

These  only  be  the  faulty  qualities 

Of  secondary  natures  —  planets,  men. 

God  hath  no  attributes  unless  To  Be 

Be  one  :  't  would  mix  Him  with  the  things  He  hath 

made. 
God  is  all  God,  as  life  is  that  which  lives. 
I  am  a  mighty  spirit,  and  yet  I 
Am  but  to  God  what  lightning  is  to  light : 
Lightning  slays  one  thing  —  light  makes  all  things 

live. 
Bear,  then,  thy  necessary  ills  with  grace  ; 
No  positive  estate  or  principle 
Is  Evil  —  debtor  wholly  for  its. form 
And  measure  to  defect  —  defect  to  good. 
Good's  the  sole  positive  principle  in  the  world  ; 
It  is  only  thus,  that  what  God  makes,  He  loves  — 
And  must :  the  others  are  but  off-shoots.     Ill 
Is  limited.    -  One  cannot  form  a  scheme 
For  universal  evil ;  not  even  I. 

Festus.       Can    imperfection    from    perfection 

come  ? 
Can  God  make  aught  defective  ? 

Lucifer.  How  aught  else  ? 

There  are  but  three  proportions  in  all  things  — 
The  greater  —  equal  —  less.      God  could  not  make 
A  God  above  Himself,  nor  equal  with  — 
By  nature  and  necessity  the  Highest ; 


296  FESTUS. 

So,  if  He  make,  it  must  be  lesser  minds 
Little  and  less  from  angels  down  to  men, 
Whose  natures  are  imperfect,  as  His  own 
Must  be  all-perfect.     These  two  states  are  not, 
Except  as  whole  unto  its  parts,  opposed ; 
And  evil  is  itself  no  ill  unless 
Creation  be. 
Fkstus.      Is  God  the  cause  of  evil  ? 
Lucifer.     So  far  as  evil  comes  from  imperfec- 
tion, 
And  imperfection  from  the  things  He  hath  made, 
And  what  He  hath  made  from  His  will  to  make. 
Festus.     Oh !  let  me  rest,  be  it  but  a  moment's 
pause  ! 
This  endless  light-like  journey  wearies  me. 
Remember  still  my  spirit  toils  in  dust  — 
A  dark,  close  cloud. 

Lucifer.  Alight,  then,  on  this  orb. 

I  am  not  wearied :  I  will  watch  by  thee. 
He   sleeps  —  he  dreams.      How  far  men  see  in 

dreams ! 
In  dreams  they  can  accomplish  worlds  of  things : 
The  heart  then  suffers  a  fusion  of  all  feeling 
Back  to  its  youthful  hours  of  innocence, 
And  nakedness,  and  paradise  ;  ere  yet 
The  world  had  wound  a  perishing  garb  around  it ; 
While  yet  its  God  came  down  and  spake  to  it. 
Such  and  so  great  are  dreams.     My  might,  my 

being 
To  him  is  but  a  dream's.     And  could  a  state 
To  come  fill  up  their  dream-stretched  minds,  they 

might 
Be  gods.     And  may  it  not  be  so  ?     Then  man 
Is  worth  my  ruining.     What  does  he  dream  V 
With  all  the  sway  his  spirit  now  exerts 
O'er  time,   space,  thought,  it  is  but  a  shadowy 

sway, 
Light  as  a  mountain  shadow  on  a  lake. 
Mine  is  the  mountain's  self.     A  touch  would  shako 


FESTUS.  297 

To  nought  whatever  his  soul  now  feels  or  acts ; 

But  not  a  world-quake  could  touch  aught  of  mine 

Thus  much  we  differ.     I  will  not  envy  man. 

Power  alone  makes  being  bearable. 

And  yet  this  dream-power  is  mind-power  —  real : 

All  things  are  real :  fiction  cannot  be. 

A  thought  is  real  as  the  world  —  a  dream 

True  as  all  God  doth  know  —  with  whom  all  is 

true. 
The  deep,  dense  sleep  of  half-dead  exhaustedness  ! 
Would  I  could  feel  it.     Ah  !  he  wakes  at  last. 
Festus.     Oh !    I  have  dreamed  a  dream  so 

beautiful ! 
Methought  I  lay  as  it  were  here  ;  and,  lo  ! 
A  spirit  came  and  gave  me  wings  of  light, 
Which  thrice  I  waved  delighted.     Up  we  flew 
Sheer  through  the  shining  air,  far  past  the  sun's 
Broad  blazing  disk,  —  past  where  the  great  great 

snake 
Binds  in  his  bright  coil  half  the  host  of  Heaven,  — 
Past  thee,  Orion  !  who,  with  arm  uplift, 
Threatening  the  throne  of  God,  dost  ever  stand 
Sublimely  impious ;  and  thy  mighty  mace 
Whirling  on  high,  down  from  its  glorious  seat 
Drops,   crushed    and    shattered,   many   a   shining 

world. 
And  so  the  brave  and  beautiful  of  old 
Believed  thou  wast  a  giant  made  of  worlds  : 
And  they  were  right,  if  thus  they  bodied  out 
The  immortal  mind ;  for  it  hath  starlike  beauty, 
And  worldlike  might ;  and  is  as  high  above 
The  things  it  scorns,  and  will  make  war  with  God, 
Though  He  gave  it  earth  and  Heaven,  and  arms 

to  win 
Them  both ;  and,  spite  of  lust  and  pride,  to  earn 

them. 
And  now  thy  soul  informs  yon  hundred  stars, 
As  mine  my  limbs  —  well,  'tis  a  noble  end. 
What  now  to  thee  be  mortal  maid  or  goddess  ? 


2£8  FESTUS. 

Look !  she  who  fled  thee  once,  now  loves  and  longs 

To  clasp  thee  to  her  cold  and  beamy  breast. 

Pine  moon !  thou  art  as  far  below  him  now, 

As  once  she  was  above  thee,  thou  of  the  world-belt  I 

And  she  who  had  thee,  and  who  knew  thee  god, 

Died  of  her  boast,  and  lies  in  her  own  dust. 

And  she  who  loved  thee,  the  young  blushy  Morning, 

Who  caught  thee  in  her  arms,  and  bore  thee  off 

Far  o'er  the  lashing  seas  to  a  lonely  isle, 

Where  she  might  pleasure  longer  and  in  secret  — 

That  love  undid  thee ;  and  it  is  so  now : 

Whether  the  beauty  seek,  or  flee,  or  have, 

'Tis  a  like  ill  —  this  beauty  doubly  mortal. 

What  though  the  moon  with  madness  slew  thee  there, 

Let  me  believe  it  was  within  the  arms 

That  loved  thee  even  in  the  stroke  of  death, 

And  that  there  snapped  the  lightning  link  of  life. 

Kill,  but  not  conquer,  man  nor  mind  may  gods. 

Thou  image  of  the  Almighty  error,  man ! 

Banished  and  banned  to  Heaven,  by  a  weak  world, 

Which  makes  the  minds,  it  cannot  master  gods. 

And  thou,  the  first  and  greatest  of  half-gods, 

Which  they  in  olden  time  did  star  together 

To  an  idolatrous  immortality ; 

Who  nationalized  the  Heavens,  and  gave  all  stars 

Unto  the  spirits  of  the  good  and  brave, 

Forestalling  God  by  ages  —  wondrous  men  ! 

And  if —  beguiled  by  wine,  and  the  low  wiles 

Thou  wouldst  not  creep  to  meet,  and  a  drunken 

sleep, 
Like  to  high  noon  in  the  midst  of  all  his  might, 
Close  by  the  brink  of  immortality  — 
The  deep  dominions  of  thy  sea-sire,  thou 
Didst  lose  thy  light  by  kings  who  hate  the  great, 
Thou  only  hadst  to  stand  up  to  the  sun, 
And  gain  again  thine  eyes.     So  the  great  king, 
The  world,  the  tyrant  we  elect,  in  vain 
Puts  out  the  eyes  of  mind :  it  looks  to  God, 
And  reaps  its  light  again.     Wherefore,  revenge ! 


FESTUS.  299 

Out  with  the  sword !  the  world  will  run  before  thee, 
Orion  !  belted  giant  of  the  skies  ! 
Thou  with  the  treble  strain  of  godhood  in  thee  ! 
March !    there  is  nought  to  hinder  thee  in   Hea- 
ven :  — 
Past  that  great  sickle  saved  for  one  day's  work, 
When  He  who  sowed  shall  reap  Creation's  field;  — 
Past  those  high  diademed  orbs  which  show  to  man 
His  crown  to  come ;  —  up  through  the  starry  strings 
Of  that  high  harp  close  by  the  feet  of  God, 
Which   He,  methought,  took   up   and   struck,  till 

Heaven, 
In  love's  immortal  madness,  rang  and  reeled ; 
The  stars  fell  on  their  faces ;  and,  far  off, 
The  wild  world  halted  —  shook  his  burning  mane  — 
Then,  like  a  fresh-blown  trumpet  blast,  went  on, 
Or  like  a  god  gone  mad.     Oh,  on  we  flew, 
I  and  the  spirit,  far  beyond  all  things 
Of  measure,  motion,  time,  and  aught  create ; 
Where  the  stars  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  first  noth- 
ing* 
And  looked  each  other  in  the  face  and  fled,  — 
Past  even  the  last  long  starless  void,  to  God ; 
Whom  straight  I  heard,  methought,  commanding 

thus: 
Immortal !  I  am  God.     Hie  back  to  earth, 
And  say  to  all,  that  God  doth  say  —  Love  God ! 

Lucifer.    God  visits  men  a  dreaming :  I,  awake. 

Festus.     And   my  dream  changed  to   one  of 
general  doom. 
Wilt  hear  it  ? 

Lucifer.     Ay,  say  on  !    It  is  but  a  dream. 

Festus.     God  made  all  mind  and  motion  cease; 
and,  lo ! 
The  whole  was  death  and  peace.     An  endless  time 
Obtained,  in  which  the  power  of  all  made  failed. 
God  bade  the  worlds  to  judgment,  and  they  came—* 
Pale,  trembling,  corpse-like.     To  the  souls  therein 
Then  spake  the  Maker :  Deathless  spirits,  rise  ! 


300  FESTUS. 

And   straight  they   thronged   around  the   throne. 

His  arm 
The  Almighty  then  uplift,  and  smote  the  worlds 
Once,  and  they  fell  in  fragments  like  to  spray, 
And  vanished  in  their  native  void.     He  shook 
The   stars   from   Heaven   like   rain-drops  from  a 

bough ; 
Like  tears  they  poured  adown  creation's  face. 
Spirit  and  space  were  all  things.     Matter,  death, 
And  time,  left  even  not  a  wake  to  tell 
Where  once  their  track  o'er  being.    God's  own  light 
Undarkened  and  unhindered  by  a  sun, 
Glowed  forth  alone  in  glory.     And  through  all 
A  clear  and  tremulous  sense  of  God  prevailed, 
Like  to  the  blush  of  love  upon  the  cheek, 
Or  the  full  feeling  lightening  through  the  eye, 
Or  the  quick  music  in  the  chords  of  harps. 
God  judged  all  creatures  unto  bliss  or  woe, 
According  to  their  deeds,  and  faith,  and  His 
Own  will :  and  straight  the  saved  upraised  a  voice 
Which  seemed  to  emulate  eternity 
In  its  triumphant  over-blessedness. 
The  lost  leapt  up  and  cursed  God  to  His  face  — 
A  curse  might  make  the  sun  turn  cold  to  hear ; 
And  thee,  in  all  thy  burning  glory,  tremble, 
In  front  of  all  thine  angels,  like  a  chord. 
Rage  writhed  each  brow  into  a  changeless  scowl. 
Madly  they  mocked  at  God,  and  dared  His  eye, 
Safe  in  their  curse  of  deathlessness.     To  Hell 
They  hied  like  storms ;  and,  cursing  all  things,  each 
Soul  wrapped  him  in  his  shroud  of  fire  for  aye, 
With  one  long,  loud  howl,  which  seemed  to  deafen 

Heaven  — 
And  then  I  woke. 

Lucifer.  A  wild,  fantastic  dream 

A  mere  mirage  of  mind !     Come,  let  us  leave : 
We  have  seen  enough  of  this  world. 

Festus.  Lift  me  up,  then 

World  upon  world,  how  they  come  rolling  on  ! 


FESTUS.  301 

But  none  that  I  see  are  so  fair  as  earth : 

There  is  so  much  to  love  that  is  purely  earth. 

Now  I  could  wander  all  day  in  the  wood, 

Where  nature,  like  a  sibyl,  writes  the  fate 

Of  all  that  live  on  her  red  forest  leaves : 

And  have  no  other  aim  than  wandering 

Within  that  wood,  and  wind  my  arms  around 

Its  gray,  gaunt  trunks,  and  think  and  feel  to  them ; 

While  the  wind,  sinking,  moans  over  the  earth 

Like  a  giant  over  some  dead  captive  dame, 

Whom   death   had   saved  from  madness   and  his 

love ;  — 
Could  tramp  across  the  brown  and  springy  moor, 
And  over  the  purple  ling,  and  never  tire ;  — 
Could  look  upon  the  ripple  of  a  river, 
Or  on  a  tree's  long  shadow  down  a  hill, 
For  a  whole  summer's  day,  wishing  the  sun 
Would  drink  my  soul  up  to  him  as  he  draws 
Dew  from  the   earth.      These   things   are  in  my 

mind, 
And  suns  and  systems  cannot  drive  them  out. 
Dost  ravage  all  these  worlds  ? 

Lucifer.  Ay,  all  mine  own. 

Where  spirit  is,  there  evil ;  and  the  world 
Is  full  of  me  as  ocean  is  of  brine. 

Festus.     God  is  all  perfect;   man  imperfect. 
Thou? 

Lucifer.    I  am  the  imperfection  of  the  whole  — 
The  pitch  profoundest  of  the  fallible. 
Myself  the  all  -of  evil  which  exists  — 
The  ocean  heaped  into  a  single  surge. 

Festus.     O  God  !  why  wouldst  Thou  make  the 
universe  ? 

Lucifer.     Child  !  quench  yon  suns ;  strip  death 
of  its  decay ; 
Men  of  their  follies  —  Hell  of  all  its  woe  ! 
These,  if  thou  didst,  thou  couldst  not  banish  me. 
I  am  the  shadow  which  Creation  casts 
From  God's  own  light.  —  But  here  we  are,  at  Hell. 


302 


Hark  to  the  thunderous  roaring  of  its  fires  ! 
Yet  ere  we  further  pass  —  stop  !  dost  thou  shrink  ? 
Festus.     At  nought  —  not  I !     Come  on,  fiend ! 
follow  me ! 


Scene  —  Hell. 

Lucifer  and  Festus  entering. 

Lucifer.    Behold  my  world!    Man's  science 
counts  it  not 
Upon  the  brightest  sky.     He  never  knows 
How  near  it  comes  to  him  ;  but,  swathed  in  clouds, 
As  though  in  plumed  and  palled  state,  it  steals 
HearseliKe  and  thieflike  round  the  universe, 
For  ever  rolling  and  returning  not  — 
Robbing  all  worlds  of  many  an  angel  soul  — 
With  its  light  hidden  in  its  breast,  which  burns 
With  all  concentrate  and  superfluent  woe. 
Nor  sun  nor  moon  illume  it,  and  to  those 
Which  dwell  in  it,  not  live,  the  starry  skies 
Have  told  no  time  since  first  they  entered  there. 
Worlds  have  been  built,  and  to  their  central  base 
Ruined  and  razed  to  the  last  atom ;  they 
Of  neither  know,  nor  can  —  unconscious,  save 
To  agony  —  nought  knowing  even  of  God 
But  His  omnipotence  to  execute 
Torture  on  those  He  hath  in  wrath  endowed 
With  Heaven's  own  immortality,  to  make 
Them  feel  what  woe  the  Almighty  can  inflict, 
And  the  all-feeble  suffer,  and  not  be 
Annihilated  as  they  would.     Be  sure 
That  this  is  Hell.     The  blood  which  hath  embrued 
Earth's  breast,  since  first  men  met  in  war,  may 

hope 
Yet  to  be  formed  again  and  reascend, 
Each  drop  its  individual  vein  :  the  foam-bubble, 
Sun-drawn  out  of  the  sea  into  the  clouds, 


FESTUS.  303 

To  scale  the  cataract  down  which  it  fell, 
Or  seek  its  primal  source  in  earth's  hot  heart ; 
But  for  the  lost  to  rise  to  or  regain 
Heaven,  or  to  hope  it,  is  impossible. 

Festus.     Are  all  these  angels  then,  or  men,  or 
both? 
Or  mortals  of  all  worlds  ? 

Lucifer.  Immortals,  all. 

Festus.     What  numbers ! 

Lucifer.  All  are  spirits  fallen  through  sin 

At  various  periods  of  eternity ; 
And  not  by  one  offence,  to  one  same  doom, 
And  at  one  moment,  did  they  down  from  Heaven 
Like  to  the  rapid  droppings  of  a  shower ;  — 
No  !  each  distinct  as  thunder-peals,  thyy  fell ; 
Save  those  that  fell  with  me.     With  me  began 
Sin  even  in  Heaven  ;  with  me  but  sin  remains. 
Once  I  alone  was  Hell.     Behold  my  fruits  ! 

Festus.     What  do    yon   fiends !    some   'mong 
them  look  like  mortals  : 
Their  hearts   shine  through   them  like  live  coals 

through  ashes. 
They  look  like  madmen  gone  delirious. 
Oh  !  horror  !  let  me  hence  ! 

Lucifer.  Nay,  hear. 

Festus.  I  hear 

A  strain  incongruous  as  a  merry  dirge, 
Or  sacramental  bacchanal  might  be. 

Lucifer.     Men  are  they  not,  but  devils  at  the 
best ; . 
And  I  would  have  thee  mark  them. 

Festus.  I  attend. 

Fiends.     Fill  the  bowl !  it  burns  but  blackly 

Fill  it  up  with  living  fire  : 
Drunkard  !  hadst  thou  sipped  as-slackly 

As  thou  pourest  —  pour  it  higher  ! 
Then  thou  hadst  ne'er  with  me  been  bound 

In  Hell  to  dwell ; 


304  FESTTJS. 

But  let  the  burning  health  go  round  — 
Drunkard!  — to  Hell! 

Fill !  it  drinks  but  cold  and  leadly  ; 

Fill  it  up  with  bubbling  fire : 
Drink !  'tis  nothing  half  so  deadly 

As  thy  soul  when  living,  Liar  ! 
Or  thou  hadst  ne'er  with  me  been  bound 

In  Hell  to  dwell ; 
But  let  the  burning  health  go  round  — 

Liar!— to  Hell! 

Fill !  it  boils  but  sick  and  sadly ; 

Fill !  some  more  immortal  fire  : 
Murderer !  drain  it  quickly,  madly, 

As  the  stab  thou  gav'st  thy  sire  ! 
Or  thou  hadst  ne'er  with  me  been  bound 

In  Hell  to  dwell ; 
But  let  the  burning  health  go  round  — 

Murderer !  —  to  Hell ! 

Festus.     Nay,  let  me  quit !  now  know  I  what 
Hell  is. 
What  are  they  —  drunkards,  liars,  murderers  ? 

Lucifer.     Can  wine  destroy  the  soul  ?  or  Hell's 
fierce  flames 
Feed  upon  holy  water,  wherewith  Priest 
Baptizeth  sinless  babe  ?     Can  liar  make 
God  He  ?  or  cheat  his  neighbor  of  his  soul  ? 
No !  God's  salvation  waiteth  not  on  man's 
"Weak  will  nor  ministry  ;  nor  man's  perdition 
Upon  his  brother's  hatred  or  neglect. 
Can  murderer  slay  the  soul  ?  or  suicide 
Drug  immortality  ?     Their  sin  is  great, 
And  is  eternally  condemned  of  God ; 
But  of  their  nature,  the  which  Death  destroys, 
Their  own  as  well  as  victim's  recompense. 
When  Time  hath  overcome  the  ruin  wrought 
Upon  their  hearts  who  loved  the  dead,  that  they 


FESTUS.  305 

Who  suffered  most  have  most  forgiven  ill,  — 
Shall  the  dead  slay  the  living  ceaselessly  ?  — 
Shall  God,  who  is  all  Love,  reverse,  reserve, 
Here  in  Hell,  ages  afterwards,  those  crimes  ? 
And  because  man  hath  sinned  a  moment,  crown 
All  crime  in  instituting  punishment 
Unending  for  an  instantaneous  wrong  ? 
Shall   that  be  justice  ?     It  were   more  than   ven- 
geance. 
Yet  such  the  Deity  men  fable,  such 
The  Hell  whereto  they  doom  themselves. 

Festus.  No  mora 

The  world  is  all-sufficient  for  itself; 
And  Hell  and  Heaven  are  not  the  equivalents 
Of  earth's  iniquities  and  righteousness. 

Lucifer.     Can  those  who  are  idolaters  defraud 
God  of  His  worship  ?  who  adore  the  world, 
Gold,  or  as  savages,  the  stars  and  Heaven, 
And  Elements  of  Earth  ?    None  worship  Him, 
But  with  and  in  His  spirit.     Nought  attains 
Hi3  love  but  that  proceedeth  from  it  first 
His  praise  is  everlasting  in  all  worlds 
And  starry  ages  of  eternity. 
Can  they  who  covet  the  world's  worthiest  goods, 
Wealth,  honor,  power,  knowledge,  rank,  or  aught 
Merit  eternal  torment  for  a  sin 
Wherewith  is  bound  the  world's  prosperity 
And  human  glory  ?    Nought  eternal  is 
But  that  which  is  of  God.     All  pain  and  woe 
Are  therefore,  finite.     Can  the  robber  steal 
From  God  or  Heaven  a  thing,  or  from  the  soul  ? 
Or  the  deflowerer  desecrate  and  undo 
The  espousals  of  the  spirit  with  its  Lord  ? 
How  weak  is  virtue,  then,  and  vice,  how  vain ! 
How  wretched  human  righteousness — and  sin, 
How  despicable  to  the  soul  assured, 
Since  neither  hath  a  recompense.     The  one 
By  Him  destroyed  who  can  alone  unmake 
That  He  hath  made ;  the  other  perfected, 
20 


30G  FESTUS. 

United,  Deified  in  God  the  Son 
With  His  own  nature.     Infinite  Universe ! 
Thou  hast  no  like,  no  second  favorite 
To  mortal  man  of  God's. 

Festus.  What  mean  the  words 

Of  yonder  fiendish  chant,  there  ? 

Lucifer.  Words  and  shapes 

Are  equally  as  soon  assumed  by  spirits. 
What  mean  my  words  to  thee  ? 

Festus.  In  sooth,  I  know  not. 

I  am  constrained  to  hear  them. 

Lucifer.  As  for  these !  — 

It  is  a  fire  of  soul  in  which  they  burn, 
And  by  which  they  are  purified  from  sin  — 
Rid   of  the  grossness  which  had  gathered  round 

them, 
And  burned  again  into  their  virgin  brightness. 
All  things  work  round  like  worlds.    The  orb  of  Hell 
Hath  yet  its  place  in  Heaven  as  thine  and  all. 
But,  as  a  spiritual  quality, 
As  spirit  is  the  substance  of  all  matier — 
Hidden  or  open,  heatlike  doth  inhere 
In  all  existence  —  or  for  good  or  ill. 
Look  at  yon  spirit. 

Festus.  What  was  it  brought  thee  hither  ? 

Spirit.    I  was  an  angel  once,  ages  agone ; 
But  doing  good  and  glorifying  not 
God,  who  empowered  me,  He  sent  me  here 
To  fire  the  proud  spot  from  my  heart. 

Festus.  And  when 

Wilt  thou  do  this,  and  own  thou  hast  wronged  God  ? 

Spirit.     I  do  repent  me,  and  confess  it  now. 
I  will  not  ask  God  now  to  let  me  be 
What  once  I  was ;  but  might  I  only  sit 
A  footstool  for  some  other  worthier  far 
Who  owneth  now  my  throne,  I  should  be  happy — 
Far  happier  than  I  was  in  my  proud  prayers, 
That  God  would  give  me  worlds   on   worlds  t<E 
govern, 


FESTUS.  307 

And  in  receiving  all  their  prayers  and  blessings. 

0  God !  remember  me  !     O  save  me  ! 
Festus.  See ! 

1  do  believe  there  is  an  angel  coming 
This  way  from  Heaven. 

Spirit.  He  comes  to  me  —  to  me  ! 

Angel.    Hail,  sufferer ! 

Spirit.  Sinner. 

Angel.  God  hath  bade  me  bring  thee 

Away  to  Heaven ;  thy  throne  is  kept  for  thee ; 
And  all  the  hosts  of  Heaven  are  on  the  wing 
To  welcome  thee  again. 

Spirit.  I  dare  not  come : 

I  am  not  worthy  Heaven. 

Angel.  But  God  will  make  thee. 

Festus.     Spirit — farewell!  and  may  we  meet 
again 
In  better  time  and  place. 

Spirit.  Glory  to  God ! 

I  go  —  farewell !  —  and  I  will  speak  of  thee. 
But,  oh !  repent !     Be  humble,  and  despair  not. 

[Angel  and  Spirit  rise. 

Lucifer.      Oh!   think,   when   all  are  judged, 
what  hosts  of  souls 
Will  then  be  mine  at  last !  —  what  wings  of  fire  ! 
Deemest  thou  yet  as  mortal  ? 

Festus.  This  is  not 

As  thou  didst  speak  of  Hell,  nor  as  I  judged. 

Lucifer.     Hell  is  the  wrath  of  God — His  hate 
of  sin. 
God  hates  man's  nature ;  be  it  said  of  his 
As  of  all  beings  ! 

Festus.  How  hate  that  he  hath  made  ? 

Lucifer.     The  infinite  opposition  of  Perfection 
To  imperfection  leaves  nor  choice  nor  mean. 
Thus  the  demeanor  of  thy  world  grieved  God, 
Till  its  destruction  pleased  Him,  and  its  name 
Was  struck  out  of  the  starry  scroll ;  thus  all 
Creation  worketh  infinite  grief  in  Time. 


308  FESTUS. 

When  human  nature  is  most  perfect,  then 

Its  fall  is  nearest,  as  of  ripest  fruit. 

Man's  pleasure  in  the  world  —  to  both  of  which 

His  nature  is  made  fit  —  is  not  of  God, 

Save  theirs  on  whom  His  spirit  He  bestows, 

As  in  a  twilight  between  earth  and  Heaven, 

A  promissory  Being  unfulfilled  — 

But  still  how  glorious  to  the  stone-blind  world. 

This  is  in  time,  but  in  eternity, 

He  raises,  remakes,  adds  to  all  He  made 

His  own  immortalizing  love  and  grace, 

Which  keeps  them  ever  pure  as  is  the  sea, 

And  incorruptible  in  godly  will. 

The  bliss  of  God  and  man  originates, 

Unites,  and  ends  in  self —  in  Deity : 

To  whom  is  neither  motive — good  —  nor  end 

Greater  or  less,  or  other  than  Himself. 

Fkstus.     But  how  can  the  Creator  glory  find 
In  Hell,  or  creature,  good  —  if  God  be  Love, 
Or  man  a  being  salvable  ?    Oh,  say ! 
But  who  comes  hither  ? 

Lucifer.     It  is  the  Son  of  God  !  — 
Omnipotent !  before  whose  steadfast  feet 
The  thrones  of  Heaven,  which  hoped  to  have  o'er- 

thrown  thine, 
But  now  all  strengthless,  hopeless,  Godless  here, 
Rose  once  and  ebbed  forever,  even  these 
Deep  in  their  fiery  abyss  of  woe 
Unbent,  unbettered  will  again  rush  forth 
In  all  the  mi^ht  of  madness  and  despair, 
To  prove  their  hatred  of  Thee  and  Thy  love. 
Salvation  is  the  scorn  of  Angels  here. 
What  dost  Thou  here,  not  having  sinned  ? 

Son  of  God.  For  men 

I  bore  with  death — for  fiends  I  bear  with  sin ; 
And  death  and  sin  are  each  the  pain  I  pay       [save 
For  the  love  which  brought  me  down  from  Heaven  to 
Both  men  and  devils  ;  and  the  Father  makes 
And  orders  every  instant  what  is  best. 


FESTUS.  309 

Festus.     This  is  God's  truth ;  Hell  feels  a  mo- 
ment cool.  [His  love,  — ■ 

Sox  of  God.     Hell  is  His  justice  —  Heaven  is 
Earth  His  long-suffering :  all  the  world  is  but 
A  quality  of  God ;  therefore  come  I 
To  temper  these  — to  give  to  justice,  mercy ; 
And  to  long-suffering,  longer.     Heaven  is  mine 
By  birthright.     Lo  !  I  am"  the  heir  of  God : 
He  hath  given  all  things  to  me.     I  have  made 
The  earth  mine  own,  and  all  yon  countless  worlds, 
And  all  the  souls  therein ;  yea,  soul  by  soul, 
And  world  by  world,  have  I  redeemed  them  all  — 
One  by  one  through  eternity,  or  given 
The  means  of  their  salvation :  why  not,  then, 
Hell? 

Festus.     Every  spirit  is  to  be  redeemed. 

Son  of  God.    Mortal !  it  has :  the  best  and  worst 
need  one 
And  same  salvation.     There  is  nothing  final 
In  all  this  world  but  God ;  therefore  these  souls 
Whom  I  see  here,  and  pity  for  their  woes  — 
But  for  their  evil  more  —  these  need  not  be 
Inhelled  for  ever;  for  although  once,  twice,  thrice, 
On  earth  or  here   they  may  have   put  God  from 

them  — 
Disowned   His  prophets  —  mocked   His   angels  — 

slain 
His  Son  in  his  mortality  —  and  stormed 
His  curses  back  to  Him  ;  yet  God  is  such, 
That  He  can-  pity  still ;  and  I  can  suffer 
For  them,  and  save  them.     Father !  I  fear  not, 
But  by  Thy  might  I  can  save  Hell  from  Hell. 
Fiends  !  hear  ye  me  !     Why  will  ye  burn  for  ever  r 
Look  !    I  am  here  all  water :  come  and  drink, 
And  bathe  in  me  !  baptize  your  burning  souls 
In  the  pure  well  of  life  —  the  spring  of  God. 
I  come  to  save  all  souls  who  will  be  saved. 
Come,  ye  immortal  fallen  !  rise  again  ! 
There  is  a  resurrection  for  the  dead, 


310  FESTUS. 

And  for  the  second  dead.     And  though  ye  died, 
And  fell,  and  fell  again,  and  again  died  — 
There  is  a  life  to  come,  a  rise  for  all, — 
A  life  to  come  for  ever,  and  a  rise 
Perpetual  as  the  spring  is  in  the  year. 

A  Fiend.     Thou  Son  of  God !  what  wilt  thou 
here  with  us  ? 
Have  we  not  Hell  enough  without  Thy  presence  ? 
Remorse,  and  always  strife,  and  hate  of  all, 
I  see  around  me  :  is  it  not  enough  ? 
Why  wilt  Thou  double  it  with  Thy  mild  eyes  ? 

Sox  of  God.     Spirit !  I  come  to  save  thee. 

Fiend.  How  can  that  be  ? 

Son  of  God.    Repent !     God  will  forgive  thee 
then ;  and  I 
"Will  save  thee  ;  and  the  Holy  One  shall  hallow. 
Repent  thou,  for  thy  judgment  is  at  hand  ; 
But  if  thou  slurrest  over  these  means  and  times, 
Which  have  been  given  thee  for  repentance  here  — 
Tremble  !     This  Hell  is  nothing  to  thy  next. 
Believest  thou  I  can  save  thee  ? 

Fiend.  Son  of  God  ! 

I  do  believe  it.     Let  me  worship. 

Son  of  God.  Come  ! 

Come  to  me  !     Lo !  I  will  but  touch  thy  brow, 
And  make  thee  bright  as  morning  is  in  Heaven. 

Spirit.     Angel  of  light  I  am  again  !     Look  here  ! 
This  —  this  is  to  be  saved  ! 

Lucifer.  I  like  it  not. 

Son  of  God.     Hear !  ye  immortals  dead  !  this  I 
can  do. 
Repent !  and  be  all  angels. 

Spirit.  Oh,  believe ! 

He  is  God.     Worship  Him  !     He  comes  to  save  us. 

Lucifer.     Stand  thou  beside  me  :  I  will  speak  to 
them ; 
Or  they  will  sure  believe  Him.     Hell !  oh  Hell ! 
Powers  of  perdition  !  thrones  of  darkness  !  —  hear  ! 
Wrath,  ruin,  torment !  — hear  me  !     It  is  I ! 


FESTUS.  311 

Thanks,  fiends  !    I  know  ye  hate  me  well,  and  may : 
I  tempted,  ruined,  damned  ye  every  one. 
Were  ye  not  proud,  now,  to  be  conquered  by  me  ? 
But  wherefore  so  supine  ?     Am  I  your  lord  ? 
Me  do  ye  doubt  ?  or  dare  ye  Him  believe  ? 
What  is  an  angel  dressed  in  shiny  white  ? 
Can  I  not  make  ye  angels  ?     Ay !  and  more : 
I  cannot  make  ye  less  —  nor  ye  yourselves  — 
Nor  God  —  nor  Son  of  God.     But  hark  to  me  ! 
Be  still,  ye  thunderblasts  and  hills  of  fire  ! 
Hell  doth  out-din  itself.  —  Hell-hearted  slaves  ! 
What  are  ye  that  I  thus  should  toil  for  ye  ? 
Who  hardly  earn  the  fire  that  burns  ye  up  ? 
Power  I  have  proffered,  but  ye  have  refused : 
Nothing  is  for  ye  but  your  fiery  fate. 
Kingdoms  I  have  prepared,  and  ye  have  spurned. 
Slaves !  slaves !  ye  are  too  much  at  ease !   Ye  leave 
Me  single  in  the  work  of  woe.    I,  sole, 
Go  forth  to  sow  destruction :  I,  alone, 
Reap  ruin.     Had  ye  been  as  I,  ere  now 
The  universe  had  been  all  Hell ;  and,  for 
A  pit,  each  fiend  had  had  a  world  to  rule. 
Rise  !     Yet  we  '11  play  all  hell  against  all  Heaven. 
Up  !  up  !  and  then  at  once  we  will  battle  God  ; 
And  hurling  each  his  orb  against  the  throne, 
Strange  if  we  will  not  scatter  it  like  sand. 
To  reign  is  nothing  half  like  to  dethrone  ! 
Dethrone  !  and  each  is  greater  then  than  God. 
And  will  ye,  then,  give  up  your  hopes  of  Heaven, 
And  entrance  as  young  conquerors  fresh  from  spoil, 
And  choice  of  thrones  won  by  your  death-red  hands, 
For  pitiful  repentance,  like  him  yonder  ? 
Forbid  it !  all  the  prowess,  pride,  and  pain 
Of  Hell  that  we  have  borne  with  !   do  ye  not  ? 
Meanwhile  man's  world  is  straight  to  be  destroyed. 
Be  glad !  be  glad !     Earth's  sons  may  soon  be  here. 
And  here,  as  earnest  of  the  truth  I  tell, 
Behold  this  earthling  standing  by  my  side  ! 
Speak  to  them,  Festus. 


312  FESTUS. 

Festus.  Nay,  I  dread  them. 

Lucifer.  Speak ! 

Great  spirits !  he  scarce  is  worthy  to  address  ye, 
In  that  I  cannot  say  he  yet  is  damned. 

Festus.     But  I  am  here  ;   what  recks  it  how  or 
why  ? 
Ye  care  not,  and  I  know  not.     It  is  fate  : 
The  will  of  God  and  him  who  sets  me  here  ; 
And  which  I  question  not.     It  must  be  good, 
Whether  decreed  that  I  be  saved  or  lost. 
But  I  have  poor  pretensions  for  this  place ; 
And  none,  I  hope,  have  worse  that  are  to  come. 
For  I  have  never  mocked  the  word  of  God, 
Nor  torn  it  into  fuel  for  my  scorn : 
Nor  doubted,  saving  tremblingly,  His  being :  — 
His  love  to  man  —  His  right  to  be  adored,  — 
Never  have  hated,  never  wronged  my  race,  — 
Deluded  nor  rejoiced  in  their  delusion  ; 
Never  have  beckoned  off  the  good  from  good  — 
Never  have  mocked  nor  scattered  hopes  —  nor  e'er 
Have  wasted  hearts,  nor  desolated  hearths ; 
And  if  1  have  once,  twice,  as  who  hath  not  ? 
Toyed  with  temptation,  yet  even  he  will  say 
Who  standeth  there,  that  I  have  never  given 
Up  to  his  burning  dalliance  my  soul. 
And  yet  he  is  my  friend,  the  Evil  one. 
And  why  is  wondrous ;  judge  ye  wherefore  too. 
I  have  no  malice,  envy,  nor  revenge  ; 
None  of  those  petty  passions  which  bad  hearts 
Scourge  red  into  themselves  —  for  passions  are 
Sufferings  —  and  which  to  nourish  is  his  want ; 
Wherein  doth  lie  his  power :  these  I  have  not. 
And,  save  enjoying  earth,  I  have  done  never 
Aught  that  he  could  take  part  in.     But  he  came 
From  God  he  said,  to  give  ;  and  I  believed  ;  — 
Great  spirits  he  not  —  doubt  not. 

Lucifer.  He  says  truth. 

But  it  is  not  for  him  nor  you  to  know 
The  reason  of  my  doings  :  it  is  the  thing 


FESTUS.  313 

Unfeared  and  unforethonght  which  tempts,  betrays. 
It  is  I  who  bait  the  world  to  do  its  will. 
As  to  this  mortal,  God  hath  sanctioned  all 
That  I  have  done,  or  may  do  to  the  end ; 
Which  I  have  nought  to  do  with.     Son  of  God  ! 
Go  on  redeeming  !  —  I  will  go  on  damning. 
God  !  go  on  making  !  —  I  will  go  on  marring. 
Go  on  believing,  man  !  —  I  go  on  tempting. 
Saint !  angel !  cherub  !  seraph  !  and  archangel ! 
Go  ye  on  blessing !  —  I  will  go  on  cursing ! 
I  now  retrack  my  course  to  earth  ;  therein 
To  work  out  what  remaineth  of  the  fate 
Of  this  man,  and  await  his  world's  destruction. 
What  next  may  hap  I  care  not. 

Festus.  Let  us  hence  ! 

Lucifer.    Where  is  He  ? 

Festus.  There  —  see  !  many  do  believe. 

Orb  of  perdition  !  thou,  too,  shalt  die  out, 
And  thy  red-sheeted  flames  shall  fail  for  a)  e. 
Thy  palpitating  piles  of  ruin,  hot 
With  ever-active  agony,  and  quick 
With  soul  immortal,  down  whose  midnight  heights 
The  wrath  of  God  in  cataracts  of  fire 
Precipitates  itself  unceasingly, 
Shall  rush  into  destruction  as  a  steed 
Rushes  into  the  battle,  there  to  die. 
Thy  quivering  hills  of  black  and  bloody  hue, 
Death-breathing,  shall  collapse  like  lifeless  lungs, 
And  end  in  air  and  ashes.     Thou  shalt  be 
Dashed  from  creation  spark-like  from  a  hand 
Scarless :  pass  like  a  rolled  syllable 
Of  midnight  thunder  from  the  coming  day. 
The  river  of  all  life,  which  flows  through  Heaven, 
Shall  yet  reach  thee  and  overflood  thy  flames  !  — 
Thou  shalt  no  more  vex  God  nor  man  ;  nor  all 
The  seekings  of  the  soul  shall  hunt  thee  out. 
Thy  day  is  sometime  over.     Be  it  soon  ! 
And  thou  the  lost  world  which  the  world  hath  lost ! 


314 


Scene  —  Colonnade  and  Lawn. 
Festus  and  Clara. 

Clara.    What  is  it  thou  wilt  tell  me  ? 

Festus.  I  have  seen 

What  ne'er  again  may  be,  nor  e'er  till  now  hath 
been. 

Clara.  Where  didst  thou  see  —  and  what  ? 

Festus.  IA  space.     He  took  me  there, 

Of  whom  I  oft  have  told  thee.     Midst  in  air 
Was  God.     I  '11  tell  thee  that  he  told  the  spheres  ; 
For  the  great  family  of  the  universe 
Round  Him  were  gathered  as  a  fire  :  but  we 
Held  back;  and,  saving  God,  none  did  us  see. 
Though  round  his  throne  in  sunny  halo  rolls 
A  ceaseless,  countless  throng  of  sainted  souls. 

Clara.     Say  on,  love  !     Let  me  hear. 

Festus.  A  sound,  then,  first 

I  heard  as  of  a  pent-up  flood  just  burst : 
It  was  the  rush  of  God's  world- winnowing  wing  ; 
Which  bowed  the  orbs  as  flowers  are  bowed  by 

breath  of  spring. 
And  then  a  voice  I  heard,  a  voice  sublime  — 
To  which  the  hoarded  thunders  of  all  time 
Pealing  earth's  death  knell  shall  a  whisper  be  — 
Saying  these  words  —  Where  will  ye  worship  me  ? 
Ay,  where  shall  be  your  Maker's  holy  place  ? 
The  Heaven  of  Heavens  is  poor  before  His  face. 
How  shall  ye  mete  my  temple,  ye  who  die  ? 
Look !  can  ye  span  your  God's  infinity  ? 
Hear,  mighty  universe,  thy  Maker's  voice  ! 
Let  all  thy  myriad,  myriad  worlds  rejoice  ! 
Lo  !  I,  your  Maker,  do  amid  ye  come, 
To  choose  my  worship  and  to  name  my  home. 
This  heard  each  sphere ;  and  all  throughout  the  sky 
Came  crowding  round.     Our  earth  was  -rolling  by, 
When  God  said  to  it  —  Rest !  and  fast  it  stood. 
With  voice  like  winds  through  some  wide  olden 
woodf 


FESTUS.  315 

Thus  spake  the  One  again  :  Behold,  O  Earth  ! 
Thy  parent,  God !  it  is  I  who  gave  thee  birth. 
With  all  my  love  I  did  thee  once  endow  ; 
With  all  my  mercy  —  and  thou  hast  them  now. 
But  hear  my  words  !  thou  never  lovedst  me  well, 
Nor  fearedst  my  wrath  :   dreadst  thou   no   longer 

Hell  ? 
Dream'st  thou  that  guilt  shall  always  mock  those 

fires  ? 
That  deathless  death  which  Hell  for  aye  expires  ? 
Should  all  creation  its  rebellion  raise, 
1  speak,  and  this  broad  universe  doth  blaze  — 
Pass  like  a  dew-drop  'neath  mine  angry  rays  — 
Blaze  like  the  fat  in  sacrificial  flame : 
And  that  burned  offering,  when  I  come  to  claim, 
Its  scorching,  quenchless  mass,  all,  I  will  pour 
Upon  thy  naked  soul :  —  canst  thou  endure  ? 
He  spake ;  and,  as  the  fear-fraught  words  flew  past, 
Earth  fluttered  like  a  dead  leaf  in  their  blast. 
Am  not  I  God  ?     Answer  me  !     Hope  not  thou, 
Impenitent,  to  ward  my  righteous  blow. 
Yet,  come  again  !  my  proffered  mercy  hear ! 
Rejoice  and  sing !  sweet  music  in  thine  ear 
And  peace  I  speak :  seek  but  to  be  forgiven : 
Repent !  and  thou  shalt  meet  thy  God  in  Heaven. 
Go!  Cleanse  thy  brow  from  blood,  thy  heart  from 

crime, 
And  on  thy  Saviour  call  while  yet  is  time  ! 
Now  to  this  universe  of  pride  and  sin 
I  speak,  ere  yet  I  call  mine  angels  in. 
Draw  nigh,  ye  worlds !  —  and,  lo  !  their  light  did 

seem 
Before  His  eye  paled  to  a  pearl's  dull  beam. 
Attend !  said  God  —  o'er  all  He  lift  his  hand.  — 
Where  will  ye  set  my  tent  ?  where  shall  my  temple 

stand  ? 
And  all  were  dumb.     Distracting  silence  spread 
Throughout  that  host  as  each  were  stricken  dead. 
I  made  ye.    I  endowed  ye.     Ye  are  mine. 


316  FESTUS. 

Then  trembled  out  each  orb :  Thine,  God !  for  ever 

Thine! 
All  that  ye  have,  within  myself  have  I ;. 
God,  am  complete  ;  full  inexhaustibly. 
I  dwell  within  myself,  and  ye  in  me, 
Not  in  yourselves ;  I  have  infinity. 
The  every  thing  in  all  things  is  my  throne ; 
Your  might  is  my  might,  and  your  wealth  mine  own  : 
'Tis  by  my  power  and  sufferance  that  ye  shine : 
I  live  in  light  and  all  your  light  is  mine. 
Be  dark!   said  God.     Night   was.     Each  glowing 

sphere 
Dulled.    Night  seemed  every  thing  and  everywhere, 
Save  that  in  utter  space  a  feeble  flare 
Told  that  the  pits  of  hell  were  sunken  there. 
Shuddered  in  fear  the  universe  the  while, 
Till  God  again  embr^ed  it  with  a  smile. 
And  all  things  made  were  glad.     Come  now  and 

hear, 
Ye  worlds !  said  God,  the  truth  I  thus  make  clear : 
My  words  are  mercy,  wherefore  should  ye  fear  ? 
And  straight,  obedient  to  his  sacred  will, 
One  great  concentrate  globe  they  crowd  to  fill ; 
Systems  and  suns  pour  forth  their  glowing  urns ; 
Full  in  the  face  of  God  the  glory  burns. 
Hearken,  thou  host !  thy  trembling  hope  to  raise,  • 
I  to  all  Being  thus  make  plain  my  ways ;  — 
God,  the  Creator,  bade  creation  rise, 
And  matter  came  in  void  like  clouds  in  skies ; 
Lifeless  and  cold  it  spread  throughout  all  space, 
And  darkness  dwelt  and  frowned  upon  its  face : 
Chaos  I  bade  depart  this  work  of  mine, 
And  straight  the  mighty  elements  disjoin. 
Then  light  I  lit;  then  order  I  ordained, 
And  put  the  dance  of  atoms  to  an  end. 
Matter  I  brake,  and  scattered  into  globes, 
And  clad  ye  each  in  green  and  growing  robes: 
Your  sizes,  places,  forms,  I  fixed  with  laws, 
And  wrought  the  link  between  effect  and  cause. 


FESTUS.  317 

Then  formed  I  lives  for  each,  which  might  inherit 

Will,  reason,  form,  and  power  —  not  deathless  spirit. 

Then  I  made  spirits,  things  of  heavenly  worth, 

Deathless,  Divine.     Round  these,  from  every  earth, 

I  gathered  forms  and  features  fit  for  love, 

Trust,  pleasure,  power,  and  all  I  could  approve. 

To  every  spirit  I  disclosed  my  name, 

My  love,  my  might,  and  whence  all  Being  came : 

To  deathless  souls  I  righteously  decreed 

Accountability  for  thought,  word,  deed. 

Then  every  orb  complete,  along  the  sky, 

In  glory,  beauty,  order,  harmony, 

I  launched.     Souls,  worlds  did  every  thing  possess 

Which  could  a  mortal  and  immortal  bless. 

To  all  the  hope  of  happier  state  was  given  — 

For  all  I  keep  one  common  boundless  Heaven. 

Ye  all  have  freedom,  and  ye  all  do  sin, 

For  ye  are  creatures  :  but  ye  all  may  win 

Life  everlasting  —  everlasting  joy, 

If  ye  do  but  the  love  of  sin  destroy  : 

This  only  is  offence ;  for  sin  ye  must 

Not  by  my  will ;  but  weakness  dwells  with  dust, 

Unless  ye  have  sinned  ye  cannot  enter  Heaven. 

How  shall  a  sinless  creature  be  forgiven  ? 

And  by  forgiveness  only  can  ye  claim 

Hope  in  my  mercy,  trust  upon  my  name. 

I  knew  that  ye  would  all  to  sin  be  given ; 

But  I,  even  God,  have  paid  your  price  to  Heaven  : 

And  if  ye  will  not  journey  on  that  way  — 

The  truth  —  the  life  —  what  do  ye  merit  ?  say  ! 

Death  is  the  gate  of  life,  and  sin,  of  bliss : 

Mark   the   dread  truth!    but  mourn   your   deeds 

amiss. 
Cast  off  your  guilt !  abandon  folly's  path  ! 
Turn  to  the  Lord  your  God  ere  hell  His  wrath  ! 
Turn  from  your  madness,  wicked  ones,  and  live ! 
Take,  take  the  bliss  which  God  alone  can  give. 
God,  the  Creator,  me  all  beings  own  — 
God,  the  Redeemer,  I  will  still  be  known  — 


318  FESTUS. 

God,  too,  the  Judge  —  the  each  —  the  three — the 

one. 
Again  the  Everlasting  cried  —  Repent ! 
To  bless  or  curse  I  am  Omnipotent. 
And  what  art  thou,  created  Being  ?     Round 
That  world  of  worlds  His  arm  the  Almighty  wound ; 
The  bright  immensity  He  raised,  and  pressed, 
All  trembling,  like  a  babe,  unto  His  breast. 
There,  in  the  Fathers  bosom  rose  again, 
Of  filial  love,  the  universal  strain ; 
Strong  and  exultant  —  blissful,  pure,  sublime, 
It  rolled,  and  thrilled,  and  swelled  in  notes  unknown 

to  time. 
Think  ye  that  I,  who  thus  do  ye  maintain ; 
Thus  always  cherish  ye,  or  all  were  vain  — 
Ye  all  would  drop  into  your  native  void, 
If  by  my  hand  ye  were  not  held  and  buoyed : 
Think  ye  that  I  cannot  uphold  in  Heaven, 
In  righteous  state,  the  souls  I  have  forgiven  ? 
Is  this  a  weightier  task  ?  with  God,  't  is  one 
To  guide  a  sunbeam  or  create  a  sun  — 
To  rule  ten  thousand  thousand  worlds  or  none. 
Go,  worlds  !  said  God,  but  learn,  ere  ye  depart, 
My  favored  temple  is  an  humble  heart ; 
Therein  to  dwell  I  leave  my  loftiest  skies  — 
There  shall  my  holy  of  all  holies  rise  ! 
He  spake ;  and  swiftly,  reverent  to  His  will, 
Sprang  each  bright  orb  on  high  its  sphere  to  fill. 
Glory  to  God  !  they  chanted  as  they  soared  — 
Father  Almighty  !  be  Thou  all-adored. 
Thou  art  the  glory  —  we,  Thine  universe, 
Serve  but  abroad  Thy  lustre  to  disperse. 
Unsearchable,  and  yet  to  all  made  known  ! 
The  world  at  once  Thy  kingdom  and  Thy  throne  — 
Pity  us,  God  !  nor  chase  us  quite  away 
Before  Thy  wrath,  as  night  before  the  day. 
In    Thee,    our    God,   we    live ;    from    Thee    we 

came  — 
The  feeble  sparks  of  Thine  eternal  flame. 


FESTUS.  319 

Thy  breath  from  nothing  filled  us  all  at  first, 
And  could  again  as  soon  the  bubble  burst. 
In  Thee,  like  motes  in  the  sunbeam,  we  move  ; 
Glow  in  Thy  light,  and  gladden  in  Thy  love. 
And  midst  this  praise,  earth  was  the  only  one 
Sullen  remained  in  that  grand  union 
Of  joy  and  harmony.     Word  spake  she  none. 

Clara.     Earth  only  had  been  chidden. 

Festus.  Not  alone. 

High  o'er  all  height,  God  gat  upon  His  throne. 
Downwards  He  bent ;  and,  as  a  grain  of  sand, 
He  lifted  up  our  globe.     Then  from  His  hand, 
As  't  were  in  pity,  bowled  the  ingrate  sphere, 
Which  rushed  like  ruin  down  its  dark  career. 
And  high  the  air's  blue  billows  rolled  and  swelled 
On  many  an  island  world  mine  eye  beheld. 

Clara.    And  where  and  what  is  he,  this  mighty 
friend, 
Who  to  thee,  human,  thus  his  might  doth  lend  ? 
Who  bore  thee  harmless,  as  thou  sayst,  through 

space, 
And  brought  thee  front  before  thy  Maker's  face  ? 

Festus.    I  know  not  where  he  is.    It  is  but  at 
times 
That  he  is  with  me ;  but  he  aye  sublimes 
His  visits  thus,  by  lending  me  his  might 
O'er  things  more  bright  than  day,  more  deep  than 

night. 
And  he  obeys  me  —  whether  good  or  ill 
His  or  my  object,  he  obeys  me  still. 

Clara.     O  Festus !  I  conjure  thee  to  beware 
Lest  thus  the  Evil  one  thy  soul  ensnare. 

Festus.    What !  may  not  a  free  spirit  have  pre- 
ferred 
A  mortal  to  his  heart  —  as  thou  thy  bird 
Lovest,  because  it  singeth  of  the  sky, 
Although  it  is  as  far  below  thy  soul 
As  I  'neath  an  archangel's  majesty  ? 
God  will  protect  the  atom  as  the  whole. 


320  FESTUS. 

Clara.     Him,  then,  I  pray :  the  spirit  full  must 
share 

The  truths  it  feels  with  God  Himself  in  prayer. 

So  guide  us,  God !  in  all  our  works  and  ways, 

That  heart  may  feel,  hand  act,  mouth  show  Thy 
praise ; 

That  when  they  meet,  who  love,  and  when  they 
part, 

Each  may  be  high  in  hope,  and  pure  in  heart : 

That  they  who  have  seen,  and  they  who  have  but 
heard 

Of  Thy  great  deeds,  may  both  obey  Thy  word ! 
Festus.     Unto  the  wise  belongs  the  sphere  of 
light, 

And  to  the  spirit  world-compelling  might. 

Yon  sun,  now  setting  in  the  golden  main, 

Shall  count  me  his  ere  next  he  rise  again. 

Would  that  the  earth  had  nothing  fair  to  lure, 

Nor  being  more  to  answer  or  endure ! 

But  I  foresee,  fore-suffer.     Bound  to  earth, 

Wrecked  in  the  deeps  of  Heaven,  in  Death's  ex- 
piring birth ! 


Scene  —  The  Sun. 

Festus.     Soul  of  the  world,  divine  Necessity, 
Servant  of  God,  and  master  of  all  things  ! 
Here,  in  the  Heaven  of  light's  eternal  noon, 
First  see  I  all  things  clear :  from  end  to  end 
The  divine  cycle  of  the  soul  of  man  ; 
How  spirit,  soul,  mind,  life,  flesh,  feeling,  mix, 
And  how,  withal  they  each  reciprocate, 
As  ocean,  earth,  air,  fire,  and  wind ;  how  flow 
The  streams  of  feeling,  and  the  cataracts 
Of  passion  ;  mine  and  mountain,  this  of  pride, 
And  that  of  covetousness.     Man  I  know ; 
The  human  universe,  and  the  divine 
And  central  fate  ;  know  all  must  be  fulfilled 


FESTUS.  321 

Of  nature  that  there  is  ;  of  sin  and  strife, 
Peace,  righteousness,  change,  self-delusion,  self- 
Destruction,  ere  the  earth  can  take  new  life, 
Or  man  become  the  minister  of  God. 
The  world  and  man  are  just  reciprocal, 
Yet  contrary.      Spirit  invadeth  sense 
And  carries  captive  Nature.     Be  this  true, 
All  good  is  Heaven,  and  all  ill  is  Hell. 
All  things  are  means  for  greater  good.    Thou,  Sun, 
Art  just  a  giant  slave,  a  god  in  bonds. 
The  summit-flower  of  all  created  life 
Is  its  unition  with  Divinity, 
In  essence,  yet  existence  separate. 
High  o'er  my  own  existence,  here  then  I 
Look  down  upon  the  nature  and  the  earth, 
Yet  mine,  whose  separate  and  combined  ends 
Have  still  to  be  evolved.     How  wide  men  miss, 
While  in  the  lower  world  of  soul  and  sense, 
In  aiming  even  at  life-ruling  Truth  — 
Formless  as  air,  simple  and  one  as  Death. 
If  Heaven  and  all  its  stars  depend  on  earth, 
Then  may  eternity  on  time  ;  —  not  else. 
But  since  now  earth  is  as  a  crumb  of  Heaven, 
And  time  an  atom  of  eternity, 
Neither  depends  upon  the  other,  both 
One  essence  being  emanant  from  God, 
Whose  flo wings  forth  are  aye  and  infinite, 
And  radiant  as  the  rivers  of  the  skies. 
One  only  truth  hath  consequence,  God's  truth 
Inspirited  in  man.     Mere  human  truth 
Or  falsehood  matters  not.     The  world  may  act, 
Believe,  or  bless,  or  curse,  as  best  it  lists. 
Yet  men  expend  life,  solemnizing  points 
Uncertain  as  the  site  of  Paradise 
.And  area  of  Hades.     Not  the  less, 
There  is  no  disappointment  we  endure 
One  half  so  great  as  that  we  are  to  ourselves. 
We  make  our  hearts  the  centres  of  all  hopes, 
All  powers,  all  rewards,  remembering  not 
21 


322  FESTUS. 

That  centres  are  imaginary  points. 
Imaginary  circles  only  too 
Are  perfect ;  therefore,  draw  life  as  we  may, 
Round  as  a  world,  or  as  an  atom  round, 
And  pure  as  virgin  visionary's  dream, 
Or  perfect  faith's  regenerative  wave  — 
It  fails  to  match  the  true  invisible 
Whereof  we  labor.     It  is  come  to  this. 
One  state  of  life  with  me  hath  passed  away. 
Aught  henceforth  that  may  matter  be  of  doubt 
To  me  is  matter  of  indifference.     I 
Love  only  that  is  certain.     Me  no  more 
The  spirits  of  the  bright  invisible 
Shall  throng  round  as  the  winds  some  mountain- 
top  ; 
Nor  watery  lightfulness  of  ghostly  eyes, 
Belonging  heavenly  forms  informed  with  light, 
Impose  their  spell  of  record  under  pain. 
The  inspiration  quits  me  —  it  is  gone  — 
Like  a  retreating  army  from  the  land 
Which  it  hath  wasted  —  the  long  gleaming  mass, 
Snakelike,  at  last  hath  wound  itself  away, 
And  left  me  weak  and  wretched.     None  again 
Of  all  the  starry  tribes  of  shining  mien  — 
Swifter  than  undulations  of  the  light, 
A  million  in  a  moment,  multiform 
&s  atomies  of  air,  shall  visit  me  ; 
Their  word  of  leave  is  taken  back  —  henceforth, 
Restricted  to  perfection,  earth  they  quit. 
True,  albeit,  I  loved  them  more  than  life ; 
I  felt  myself  made  sacred  by  their  touch :  — 
But  they  are  gone,  and  there  is  nought  on  earth 
Left  acceptable.     Fiery  shadows,  hence ! 
I  have  outbraved  ye  once.     It  matters  not. 
I  have  left  all  for  one ;  Truth's  countless  rays 
For  Truth  itself;  the  mean  for  the  supreme, 
The  dubitable  for  the  throned  power. 
Yet  thus  I  cannot  rest.     The  mightiest  sphere 


FESTUS.  323 

Is  not  for  man.     The  elements  of  mind 

And  matter  are  proportioned  in  all  worlds ; 

The  father  they  and  mother  of  all  things. 

And  earth  hath  favor  over  crowds  of  stars. 

T  must  reseek  earth.     Still  what  boots  it  now, 

To  plunge  in  pleasure  or  to  passion  bow, 

The  very  lion-honey  of  the  heart 

Which  dwelleth  in  corruption  ?     Yet,  perchance, 

'T  were  wisdom  to  extract  it  while  we  may. 

The  oak,  as  lily,  feels  the  lightest  breeze. 

The  ineradicable  seed  is  sown 

Of  love  in  life,  and  tide-like  't  will  have  way 

O'er  the  impalaced  prisoner  of  the  breast. 

The  thirst  for  power  and  knowledge  still  exist, 

And  meet  with  dizzy  mixture  in  the  brain. 

If  suffering  could  expiate  offence, 

They  who  have  most  enjoyed  have  most  atoned, 

It  may  be,  humanly ;  —  but  it  cannot. 

Earth-like,  the  heart  must  undergo  all  change 

Ere  the  superior  life  be  formed  therein, 

The  chastity  of  heart  which  loves  but  God. 

Life's  sensuous  warmth,  the  spirit's  holy  chill, 

Time's    week-day   work,   have    yet    to    be    gone 

through. 
The  hortus  siccus  of  a  Paradise 
Is  all  earth  now  can  boast.     To  God  belongs 
The  autumn  of  all  nature.     But,  alas  ! 
Not  yet  can  we  o'ercome  our  nature  here, 
Would  we.     If  therefore  passion  strike  the  heart, 
Let  it  have  length  of  line  and  plenteous  play. 
The  safety  of  superior  principles 
Lies  in  exhaustion  of  the  lower  ones, 
However  vast  or  violent.     Men  and  angels 
Obey  the  order  of  existence.     Fate ! 
Who  seeks  thee  everywhere,  will  find  thee  there. 


324 


Scene  —  A  Drawing  Room. 

Festus  and  Elissa. 

Festus.    Who  says  lie  loves  and  is  not  wretched, 
lies ; 
Or  that  love  is  madness  came  mad  from  his  mother. 
*T  is  the  most  reasonable  thing  in  nature. 
What  can  we  do  but  love  ?     It  is  our  cup. 
Love  is  the  cross  and  passion  of  the  heart, 
Its  end  —  its  errand.     In  the  name  of  God, 
What  made  us  love,  Elissa  ? 

Elissa.  I  know  not. 

I  am  not  happy.     I  have  wept  all  day. 

Festus.    'T  was  thine  own  fault.    What  wouldst 
thou  have  of  me  ? 
I  tell  thee  we  must  —  no,  I  cannot  tell  thee. 
Nor  can  I  bear  those  tears.     Thou  know'st  I  love 

thee, 
Worship  thee  ;  oh !  it 's  a  world  more  than  worship, 
The  cold  obedience  which  we  give  to  God. 
Elissa !  turn  to  me  ! 

Elissa.  I  cannot.     Go !  — 

Festus.     Thou  hadst  no  need,  no  business  to 
have  loved  me. 
One  loved  thee  well. 

Elissa.  I  could  not  help  his  loving 

Me,  nor  my  loving  thee.     It  was  our  fate. 

Festus.     Then  Fate  hath  fee'd  the  passion  for 
our  death, 
And  we  are  sold. 

Elissa.  Well !     Let  us  die  together. 

Together  we  will  quit  our  bodies  here. 
Festus.     Together  will  we  go  to  God  and  judg- 
ment. 
Elissa.     Festus!  I  will,  I  can  love  none  but 

thee. 
Festus.     Thou  must  not 


FESTUS.  325 

Elissa.  But  I  must.     I  cannot  help  it. 

Look  at  me  —  heart  and  arms,  I  am  thine  own. 
Thou  knowest  I  am  and  have  been.     Wilt  not  love 

me  ? 
Festus  !  mine  own  and  only  !  wilt  thou  not  ? 
Have  I  done  nothing,  suffered  and  abandoned 
Nothing  for  thee  ?     Oh  !     I  was  happy  once  ; 
Ere  I  knew  thee.     Why  wast  thou  kind  to  me  ? 
Cruelly  kind  —  or  this  had  never  been. 
But  now  thou  mayst  be  cruel  if  thou  wilt. 
Hate  me  !  still  I  am  thine  :  disown  me,  thine ! 
Desert  me !  no  —  thou  canst  not.     I  am  thine  ; 
I  am !  look  at  me,  Festus  !  look  at  me  ! 
I  am  half  blind  with  weeping ;  and  mine  eyes 
Have  not  a  tear  left  in  them.     But  I  know 
How  it  will  end.     Thou  wilt  leave  me  as  I  am  — 
Loveless  and  lonely. 

Festus.  Nay,  not  so  ;  my  love 

Shall  aye  be  with  thee,  and  my  soul  with  both. 
But  we  must  part !     Think  that  I  come  again. 

Elissa.    Not  be  again  with  thee  !  nor  thou  with 
me! 
It  is  too  much.     Let  me  go  mad,  or  die. 

Festus.     Live,  mine  Elissa  !  and  thou  shalt  live 
with  me, 
And  I  will  love  thee  ever  as  I  now  love. 
Wilt  thou  ? 

Elissa.     Oh  !  make  me  happy !  say  I  may 
Believe  thee. 

Festus.    '    May  ?     Thou  must. 

Elissa.  Say  it  again ! 

I  cannot  know  too  often  of  my  bliss. 
But  dost  thou  love  me  ?  tell  me  — ■  wilt  thou  love 


me 


? 


Festus.     Since  I  have  known  thee  I  have  done 

nought  else. 
All  hours  not  spent  with  thee  are  blanks  between 

stars. 
I  love  thee !  love  thee  !  love  thee !  madly  love  thee 


326  FESTUS. 

Oh  !  thou  hast  drank  my  heart  dry  of  all  love ! 

It  will  be  empty  to  aught  after  thee. 

Come,  dry  thine  eyes.     Blessings  on  those   sweet 

eyes! 
By  Heaven  !  they  might  a  moment  win  the  glance 
Of  any  seraph  gazing  not  on  God. 

Elissa.     No  wonder  they  drew  thine.     There 
is  a  tear ! 

Festus.     Ay;  strange  and  startling  is  the  first 
hot  tear 
That  we  have  shed  for  years ;  and  which  hath  lain 
Like  to  a  water-fairy  in  the  eye's 
Blue  depths  —  spell-bound  in  the  socket  of  the  soul. 
Death  brought  it  not — pain  brought  it  not  —  nor 

shame ; 
Nor  penitence  — nor  pity  —  nor  despair: 
Nothing  but  love  could.     For  a  fearful  time 
We  can  keep  down  the  floodgates  of  the  heart, 
But  we  must  draw  them  sometime  ;  or  it  will  burst 
Like  sand  this,  brave  embankment  of  the  breast, 
And  drain  itself  to  dry  death.     When  pride  thaws  — 
Look  for  floods ! 

Elissa.  Now,  thou  wilt  be  very  kind 

When  next  we  meet?     Our  time  will   soon    be 
gone. 

Festus.    I  cannot  think  of  tune :  —  there  is  no 
time ! 
Time !  time  !  I  hate  thee  —  with  the  hate  of  Hell 
For  aught  that's  good  —  but  thou  art  infamous. 
I  will  give  thee  half  my  immortality 
To  keep  back  for  one  hour.     Leave  me,  to-night ; 
And  wither  me,  to-morrow,  like  a  weed ! 

Elissa.    Where  is  he  now  ? 

Festus.  In  Hell,  —  I  hope. 

Elissa.  What  mean'st  thou  ? 

He  wronged  thee  never.     Say,  when  cometh  he  ? 

Festus.    To-night. 

Elissa.  He  comes  to  sever  us,  like  fate. 

But  shall  he  part  us  ? 


FESTUS.  321 

Festus.  Never  !     Let  him  part 

The  sun  in  two  first. 

Elissa.  It  was  ever  thus  : 

I  am  made  to  make  unhappy  all  around  me. 

Festus.     I  will  not  hear  of  thy  being  wrong,  — 
it  is  I. 
I  am  the  false  usurper.     And  since  one 
Out  of  the  three  must  be  a  sacrifice, 
Let  it  be  me.     It  shall  be. 

Elissa.  Thou  didst  swear, 

Even  now,  to  love  me  ever. 

Festus.  Be  it  so. 

I  have  sworn  —  and  now  and  then  I  keep  my  oath  — • 
I  will  not  give  thee  up,  so  save  me,  God  ! 

Elissa.     Oh !  we  have  been  too  happy,  have 
we  not  ? 
But,  now  I  think  of  it,  we  might  have  known 
It  could  not  last.     Woe  follows  bliss  as  close 
As  death  does  life  —  as  naturally,  may  be. 
We  might  have  thought  — 

Festus.  I  never  thought  about  it. 

My  love  —  Elissa !  ah,  how  cold  thy  hand  is  ! 
Here  —  warm  it  on  my  heart.     Nay,  let  it  be. 
The  hand  that  is  on  the  heart  is  on  the  soul. 
And  it  is  thus  some  moments  take  the  wheel, 
And  steer  us  through  eternity.     Believe  me, 
Could  I  but  crowd  life,  love  too,  in  one  throb, 
I  would  beat  it  out,  this  moment,  in  thy  hand, 
And  would  die  blessing. 

Elissa.    •  Give  me  my  hand  back  ! 

Festus.      My   sweet   one !    if  this   heart  hath 
warmed  thy  hand, 
It  hath  not  beaten  in  vain  —  it  but  returns 
A  pleasure,  and  a  passion,  and  a  power : 
For  oft  at  touch  of  thine  this  bosom  burns. 

Elissa.    Love  hath  no  end  except  itself.     We 
only 
Felt  we  loved  and  were  happy. 

Festus.  Ah  \    It  was  so. 


328  FESTUS. 

Elissa.     Our  sole  misfortune  is,  we  have  been 
happy : 
We  never  shall  be  happy  here  again. 

F est  us.     Nay,  say  not  so.    Let  us  be  happy  now 
Happy?     To  fling  aside  thy  wavy  locks, 
And  teed  mine  eyes  on  thy  white  brow  —  to  look 
Deep  in  thine  eyes  till  J  feel  mine  have  drank 
Full  of  that  soft,  wet  fire  which  floats  in  thine  — 
Eyes  which  I  ne'er  would  leave  —  yet  when  most 

near, 
Then  most  astray  I  —  oh  !  to  lay  my  cheek 
Upon  thy  sweet  and  swelling  bosom  thus ; 
Where  midst  upon  the  beauty  of  thy  breast 
Sits  love  like  God  between  the  cherubim  — 
To  crop  the  red  budding  kisses  from  thy  lips  — ■ 
To  name  thee,  make  thee,  but  one  moment,  mine  — 
Delights  me  more  than  all  that  earth  can  lend 
The  good  or  bad  —  or  Heaven  can  give  the  saved. 
One  long,  wild  kiss  of  sunny  sweets,  till  each 
Lack  breath,  the  lips  half  bleed,  and,  come  —  thou 

knowest ! 
I  ask  but  one  such  —  let  it  last  for  ever ! 

Elissa.     Now,  Festus  !  this  is  wrong. 

Festus.  What  ?  —  what  is  wrong  ? 

Shall  my  blood  never  bound  beneath  beauty's  touch, 
Heart  throb,  nor  eye  thaw  with  hers  —  when  her 

tears 
Drop,  quick  and  bright,  upon  the  glowing  brow 
Plunged   in   her   bosom  —  because,   forsooth,  it  is 


wron^ 


Let  it  be  wrong !  it  is  wrong,  it  is  wretchedness 
That  I  would  lose  both  sense  and  soul  to  suffer. 

Elissa.     How  dare  we  love  each  other  as  we  do  ? 

Festus.     Give   me   some   wine!   more  —  more, 
love ! 

Elissa.  Drink  and  drain 

The  bowl !  the  vintage  of  a  hundred  years 
Would  never  slake  the  memory  of  shame ; 
Nor  quench  the  thirst  of  folly. 


FESTUS.  329 

Festus.  Fill  again ! 

My  beauty !  sing  to  me,  and  make  me  glad. 
Thy  sweet  words  drop  upon  the  ear  as  soft 
As  rose  leaves  on  a  well :  and  I  could  listen, 
As  though  the  immortal  melody  of  Heaven 
Were  wrought  into  one  word — that  word  a  whisper 
That  whisper  all  I  want  from  all  I  love. 

Elissa.     I  am  not  happy,  and  I  cannot  sing. 
Thou  lookest  happy.     I  wish  I  were  so. 

Festus.     They  tell  us  that  the  body  of  the  sun 
Is  dark,  and  hard,  and  hollow ;  and  that  light 
Is  but  a  floating  fluid  veiling  him. 
Ah !  how  oft,  and  how  much,  the  heart  is  like  him ! 
Despite  the  electric  light  it  lives  and  hides  in. 

Servant  entering.     A   singer  who  was  told  to 
come  is  here. 

Festus.    Wilt  hear  him  ? 

Elissa.  Yes,  love  —  gladly. 

Festus.  Show  him  in. 

What  have  you  there  ? 

Singer.  Oh  !  I  think,  every  thing. 

Festus.     Well,  any  thing  will  be  enough  this 
once. 
The  last  new  song  ? 

Singer.  Certainly ;  here  it  is.     [Sings. 

Oh !  let  not  a  lovely  form 

With  feeling  fill  thine  eye ; 
Oh  !  let  not  the  bosom  warm 

At  love-lorn  lady's  sigh  — 
For  how  false  is  the  fairest  breast ; 

How  little  worth,  if  true  : 
And  who  would  wish  possessed, 

What  all  must  scorn  or  rue  ? 
Then  pass  by  beauty  with  looks  above ; 
Oh !  seek  never  —  share  never  —  woman's  love 

Oh  !  let  not  a  planet-like  eye 
Inbeam  its  tale  on  thine  ; 


330 


In  truth  'tis  a  lie —  though  a  lie 

Scarce  less  than  truth  divine. 
And  the  light  of  its  look  on  the  young 

Is  wildfire  with  the  soul ; 
Ye  follow  and  follow  it  long, 

But  find  nor  good  nor  goal. 
Then  pass  by  beauty  with  looks  above ; 
Oh  !  seek  never  —  share  never  —  woman's  love 

Elissa.     Methinks  I  must  have  heard  that  voice 

before, 
Festus.     And  I. 
Elissa.  Where  ? 

Festus.  I  forget. 

Elissa.  And  so  do  I. 

Singer.     Oh  !  let  not  a  wildering  tongue 

Weave  bright  webs  o'er  thine  ear ; 
Nor  thy  spirit  be  said  nor  sung 

To  the  air  of  smile  or  tear. 
And  say  it  hath  melody  far 

More  than  the  spheres  of  Heaven, 
Though  to  man  and  the  Morning  star 

They  sang,  Ye  be  forgiven  ! 
Yet  pass  by  beauty  with  looks  above  ; 
Oh  !  seek  never  —  share  never  —  woman's  love  ! 

Oh  !  let  not  a  soft  bosom  pour 

Itself  in  thine  !     It  is  vain. 
Love  cheateth  the  heart,  oh  !  be  sure, 

Worse  even  than  wine  the  brain. 
Then  snatch  up  thy  lip  from. the  brim, 

Nor  drain  its  dreamlike  death  ; 
For  Love  loves  to  lie  down  and  dim 

The  bright  soul  with  his  breath. 
Then  pass  by  beauty  with  looks  above  ; 
Oh !  seek  never  —  share  never  —  woman's  love  ! 

Festus.     Come  hither,  man  !  I  wish  to  look  at 
thee 


%        FESTUS.  331 

A  moment.    No  !  it  can't  be.     Yet  I  have  seen 
Some  one  much  like  thee. 

Elissa.  It  was  a  brother,  may  be 

Singer.    I  have  none,  lady.     Have  ye  done  with 
me  ? 

Festus.     Yes  —  go  !  and  we  will  take  your  song 
of  you. 

Servant.     Here,  follow  me  !  [  They  go. 

Festus.  Weeping  again,  my  love  ? 

Thou  art,  by  turns,  the  proudest  and  the  humblest 
Creature  I  ever  met  with.     The  least  thing 
Dints  thy  soft  heart.    Come,  cheer  thee,  sweet  one  — 

do! 
Oh  !  if  to  say,  I  love,  laid  all  the  sins 
Of  all  the  worlds  upon  me,  I  would  say  it 
Till  I  was  out  of  breath  :  and  will  till  I  die. 

Elissa.    If  Love  be  blind,  it  must  be  by  his 
tears ; 
For  love  and  sorrow  alway  come  together  — 
Love  with  his  sister,  sorrow,  by  the  hand. 

Festus.     Nay,  I  will  conquer  thee  again  to  smile, 
Or  lose  my  right  to  love  thee.     Let  me  kneel ! 
Come  !  I  will  have  no  other  gods  but  thee  ; 
To  none  but  thee  will  I  bow  down  and  worship ; 
Thy  bosom  is  mine  altar  —  and  thine  eyes 
Are  the  divinity  that  preys  upon  me. 
Oh  !  cruel  as  the  week-day  gods  of  old, 
Thou  wilt  have  human  victims  ;  not  content 
With  tears  and  kisses  —  fire  and  water  —  thou 
Wilt  have  the  subtler  element  of  life ; 
Thou  needs  must  live  on  immortality  ! 
Here  —  take  me  then  !     I  offer  up  myself 
A  sacrifice  to  thee. 

Elissa.  Thou  foolish  boy  ! 

Where  will  thy  passionate  folly  end  ?     I  love  thee. 
Festus.  *Well,  then,  let  me  conjure  thee !  let  me 
swear 
By  some  sweet  oath  that  shall  to  both  be  holy,  — 
By  arms  which  hold,  by  knees  which  worship  thee . 


332  FESTUS. 

By  that  dark  eye,  the  dark  divine  of  beauty, 

Yet  trembling  o'er  its  lid  all  tears  and  light  — 

Glory  and  eye  of  eyes  which  yet  have  shone  ! 

By  this  lone  heart,  which  longeth  for  a  mate ! 

By  love's  sweet  will,  and  sweeter  way !  by  all 

I  love — by  thyself,  myself!  let  me,  let  me, 

Let  me  —  but  draw  the  lightning  from  thine  eye :  — ■ 

Kisses  are  my  conductors :  do  not  frown ; 

Nor  look  so  temptingly  angry.     I  was  but  trifling. 

The  cold  calm  kiss  which  cometh  as  a  gift, 

Not  a  necessity,  is  not  for  me, 

Whose  bliss,  whose  woe,  whose  life,  whose  all  is  love. 

Elissa.     We  both  wrong  whom  we  love,  love 
whom  we  wrong. 

Festus.  But  I  am  as  a  dog  that  fondles  o'er 
And  licks  the  wound  he  dies  of.  Would  I  could 
Suffer  or  feel  enough  of  love  to  kill ! 

Elissa.   Thou  lovest  one  whom  thou  oughtst  not 
to  love. 

Festus.   And  what  of  that  ?    Love  hath  its  own 
belief — 
Own  worship  —  own  morality  —  own  laws : 
And  it  were  better  that  all  love  were  sin 
Than  that  love  were  not.     It  must  have  by-laws  — 
Exceptions  to  the  rules  of  earth  and  Heaven  — 
For  it  means  not  the  good  it  doth  nor  ill. 

Elissa.     It  is  wrong  —  it  is  unjust  —  unkind. 

Festus.  It  is. 

But  I  am  half  mad  and  half  dead  with  it. 
I  have  loved  thee  till  I  can  love  nought  beside. 
My  heart  is  drenched  with  love  as  with  a  cloud. 
I  have  too  much  of  life,  that  I  scarce  can  live. 
I  hate  all  things  but  thee  —  shun  men,  like  snakes  — 
Women,  like  pits.     To  me  thou  art  all  woman  — 
All  life  —  all  love,  and  more  than  all  my  kind. 
I  love  thee  more  than  I  shall  love  ancTlook  for 
Death,  if  he  takes  thee  from  me.     But  who  dreams 
Of  death  and  thee  together ! 

Elissa.  I  do  oft : 


FESTUS.  333 

And  as  oft  wish  dreams  would,  for  once,  come  true. 
The  best  of  all  things  are  dreams  realized. 

Festus    Dreams  such  as  gods  may  dream  thy 
soul  possess 
For  ever  in  the  Hadean  Eden  —  Death : 
But  bless  thy  lover  with  reality  ! 
Then,  thou  shalt  live  for  ever,  and  with  me. 
I  have  gone  round  the  compass  of  all  life, 
And  can  find  nought  worthy  of  thee.     I  but  feel, 
That  were  I  —  as  I  ought  to  be  —  a  god, 
I  would  just  sacrifice  the  sun  to  thee, 
In  bright  and  burning  honor  of  thy  love. 
Miracles  are  not  miracles  with  gods. 

Elissa.    Dearer  thou  canst  not  be  to  me,  unless 
I  die  in  telling  how  dear. 

Festus.  My  Elissa ! 

I  —  I  am  bewildered :  open  but  thine  arms ! 
And  make  me  happy  and  all  wise  of  thee. 
My  soul  is  stung  with  thy  beauty  to  the  quick. 
Oh  !  but  thou  art  too  good,  or  else  too  bad : 
Be  colder  or  be  warmer ! 

Elissa.  Leave  me ! 

Festus.  Well : 

It  is  most  cruel  —  first,  to  light  the  heart 
With  love  completely  —  boundlessly;  and  then 
Moonlike,  slowly  to  edge  aside,  and  leave 
One  only  little  line  of  all  so  bright, 
Once  —  teach  and  unteach  —  nay,  to  use  more  arts 
Than  would  outdo  the  devil  of  his  throne, 
To  make  us  ignorant  of  all  we  know :  — 
To  take  the  heart  to  pieces  carefully  — 
For  it  is  love  alone  can  build  the  heart  — 
To  root  the  tree  up  'neath  whose  shade  we  have  lived, 
And  give  us  back  a  sliver.     Let  it  die  ! 

Elissa.     Hark !  he  is  coming. 

Festus.  No!    He  cannot  come; 

For  I  have  driven  an  oath  into  his  heart, 
And  I  have  hung  a  curse  about  his  neck 
Might  sink  the  prince  of  air  into  the  centre. 


334  FESTUS. 

Elissa.     All  I  have  done,  I  have  done  to  save 
ourselves. 

Festus.   Then  let  us  perish  !    But  unless  we  sin 
We  cannot  perish.     Have !  Have  !  cries  a  voice, 
As  of  a  crowd,  within  me.     I  would  do  aught 
To  throw  this  dark  desire  which  wrestles  with  me. 
It  answers  not  to  hold  it  at  arms'  length : 
It  must  be   hurled,  dashed,   trampled    down.  —  I 

can't. 
Lady !  how  long  am  I  to  love  thee  thus  ? 
Never  did  angel  love  its  Heaven  —  nor  God 
Man,  as  I  thee. 

Elissa.  I  feared  how  it  would  end. 

Can  nothing  less  than  sinning  sate  the  soul  ? 
Can  nothing  but  perdition  serve  to  nest 
Our  hearts,  after  so  sweet  a  flight  of  love  ? 

Festus.    The  might  and  truth  of  hearts  is  never 
shown 
But  in  loving  those  whom  we  ought  not  to  love  — 
Or  cannot  have.     The  wrong,  the  suffering  is 
Its  own  reward. 

Elissa.  Let  me  not  wrong  thee,  Festus. 

Let  me  not  think  I  have  thought  too  well  of  thee. 
Be  as  thou  wast.     What  will  become  of  us  ? 

Festus.     Be  mine !  be  me !  be  aught  but  so  far 
from  me  ! 
Give  me  thyself!     It  is  not  enough  for  me, 
That  I  have  gazed  and  doted  on  thee  till 
Mine  eye  is  dazzled  and  my  brain  is  dizzied : 
Thou  must  exhaust  all  senses  ;  not  enough 
That  in  long  dreams  my  soul  hath  spread  itself 
Like  water  over  every  living  line 
Of  this  sweet  make,  dreaming  thou  wast  all  lips ; 
Nor  that  it  now  sinks  in  the  face  of  thee, 
Like  a  sea-sunset,  hot  and  tired  with  the  long, 
Long  day  of  love ;  —  it  is  not  enough.     I  must 
Have  mope  —  have  all !     For  I  have  sworn  to  fill 
Mine  arms  with  bliss  —  thus  —  thus  —  thus ! 

Elissa.  Festus ! 


FESTUS.  335 

Lucifer,  entering.  Friend ! 

Did  ye  not  know  me  ?     It  was  I  who  sang. 

Elissa.    It  was  he  ! 

Festus.     Thou  — 

Lucifer.  Hush !  thou  art  not  to  utter  what 

I  am.     Bethink  thee  ;  it  was  our  covenant. 
I  said  that  I  would  see  thee  once  again. 

Elissa.     Thou  didst ;  and  I  must  thank  thee. 

Lucifer.  Hear  me  now  ! 

Thou  knowest  well  what  once  I  was  to  thee  : 
One  who  for  love  of  one  I  loved — for  thee  — 
Would  have  done  or  borne  the  sins  of  all  the  world ; 
Who  did  thy  bidding  at  thy  lightest  look ; 
And    had   it  been   to   have    snatched   an   angel's 

crown 
Off  her  bright  brow  as  she  sat  singing,  throned, 
I  would  have  cut  these  heartstrings  that  tie  down, 
And  let  my  soul  have  sailed  to  Heaven,  and  done 

it  — 
Spite  of  the  thunder  and  the  sacrilege, 
And  laid  it  at  thy  feet.     I  loved  thee,  lady ! 
I  am  one  whose  love  was  greater  than  the  world's, 
And  might  have  vied  with  God's ;  a  boundless  ring, 
All  pressing  on  one  point  —  that  point  thy  heart. 
And  now  —  but  shall  I  call  on  my  revenge  ?  — 
It  is  at  hand  in  armies.     Thou  art  a  woman  ; 
And  that  is  saying  the  best  and  worst  of  thee. 
I  know  that  vengeance  is  the  part  of  God  : 
And  can  make  myself  almighty  for  the  moment. 
For  what  ?  for.  nothing.     Thou  art  utter  nothing. 
Thus  it  was  always  with  me  when  with  thee ; 
And  I  forgot  my  purpose  and  my  wrongs, 
In  looking  and  in  loving.     But  I  hate  thee. 
To  say  thou  didst  love  me  !     Curse  the  air 
That  bore  the  sound  to  me  !     Forgive  me,  God ! 
If  I  blaspheme,  it  is  not  at  Thee,  but  her. 
I'd  not  believe  her  were  she  saved  in  Heaven ! 
There  is  no  blasphemy  in  love  but  doubt ; 
No  sin,  but  to  deceive. 


336  FESTUS. 

Festus.  Then  is  she  sinless. 

She  loved  thee  first — then  me.   What  wouldst  thou 

more  V 
Thy  heart's  embrace,  though  close,  was  snake-like 

cold; 
And  mine  was  warm,  and  what  is  more,  was  wel- 
come. 

Lucifer.     Patience !     I  spake   not,  cared  not, 
thought  not,  of  thee.  — 
Now  I  forgive  thy  having  loved  another ; 
And  I  forgive  —  but  never  mind  it  now  ; 
I  have  forgiven  so  much,  there  is  nothing  left 
To  make  more  words  about ;  but,  for  the  future, 
I  will  as  soon  attempt  to  entice  a  star 
To  perch  upon  my  finger ;  or  the  wind 
To  follow  me  like  a  dog,  as  think  to  keep 
A  woman's  heart  again.     Answer  me  not ! 
Let  me  say  what  I  have  to  say  and  go. 
Thou  art  all  will  and  passion  ;  that  is  thine 
Excuse  and  condemnation. 

Elissa.  While  that  will 

Was  love  to  thee,  I  saw  no  harm,  nor  thou. 
And  if  my  heart  hath  gained,  it  was  not  I 
Who  put  it  on  —  nor  could  help  it  going  wrong. 

Lucifer.     Oh !  I  have  heard,  what  rather  than 
have  heard, 
I  would  have   stopped  mine   ears  with  thunder: 

words, 
That  have  gone  singing  through  my  soul,  like  arrows 
Through  the  air. 

Elissa.  I  never  will  defend  myself. 

For  I  despise  defence  like  accusation  — 
And  now  look  down  on  them  and  thee  together. 

Lucifer.     Now  let  us  part,  or  I  shall  die  of 
wrath. 
Be  my  estrangement  perfect  as  my  love  1 

Elissa.     Part  then ! 

Lucifer.  Thank  God  it  is  for  eternity  ! 

Elissa.    I  do.     Away. 


FESTUS.  337 

Lucifer.  Festus  !  I  wait  for  thee. 

Festus.     Come,  thou  art  not  the  first  deceived 
in  love ; 
Yet  love  is  not  so  much  love  as  a  dream, 
Which  hath,  it  seems,  like  guerdon  with  the  thing — ■ 
The  staring  madness  when  we  wake  and  find 
That  what  we  have  loved,  must  love,  is  not  that 
We  meant  to  love.     Perhaps  I  profited 
Too  much  by  thy  good  lessons.     Go  !  I  follow. 
B      Lucifer,  going.     Now  therefore  would  I  wager, 
and  I  might 
The  great  archangel's  trump  to  a  dog-whistle, 
That  whatsoever  happens,  worse  ensues. 

Festus.     Forgive  me,  love,  for  having  brought 
this  on  thee. 

Elissa.     The  love  which   giveth   all,  forgive th 
aught. 
And  thou  art  more  to  me  than  earth  or  Heaven. 
They  have  but  given  life :  thou  gavest  me  love, 
The  lord  of  life  —  thou,  my  life  !  love,  and  lord  ! 
Take  me  again  !  my  kindest  —  dearest  —  best ! 
Him  who  hath  gone  I  never  loved  like  thee. 
There  was  a  desolation  in  his  eye 
I  could  not  brook  to  look  on ;  for  it  seemed 
As  though  it  ate  the  light  out  of  mine  own. 
I  think  that  thou  dost  love  me. 

Festus.  And  I  think, 

For  perfect  love  there  should  be  but  one  god  — 
One  worshipper. 

Elissa.       '         We  know  the  gods  of  old 
Worshipped  each  other  —  equal  deities. 
For  the  sweet  poets  surely  spake  the  truth 
About  the  gods  ;  they  dare  not  speak  but  truth. 

Festus.     Who    but    thyself    would  speak    of 
poetry, 
While  thou  art  by  ?  who  art  the  very  breathing 
Beauty  which  bards  may  seek  ideally. 
And  dost  thou,  then,  believe  the  gods  of  old  — 
Those  toys  and  playthings  of  an  infant  world  ? 
22 


338  FESTUS. 

Elissa.    If  I  do  not  believe,  I  do  not  scorn 
them. 
Nay,  I  could  mourn  for  them  and  pray  for  them. 
I  can  scorn  nothing  which  a  nation's  heart 
Hath  held,  for  ages,  holy :  for  the  heart 
Is  alike  holy  in  its  strength  and  weakness : 
It  ought  not  to  be  jested  with,  nor  scorned. 
All  things,  to  me,  are  sacred  that  have  been. 
And,  though  earth,  like  a  river,  streaked  with  blood, 
Which  tells  a  long  and  silent  tale  of  death, 
May  blush  her  history  and  hide  her  eyes, 
The  past  is  sacred  —  it  is  God's,  not  ours. 
Let  her  and  us  do  better  if  we  can. 

Festus.     There  are  whole  veins  of  diamonds  in 
thine  eyes, 
Might  furnish  crowns  for  all  the  Queens  of  earth. 
Oh !    I  could  sooner  set  a  price  on  the  sun, 
My  love,  than  on  thy  lightest  look.     Look  on  me  ! 
Speak  !  if  it  only  be  to  say  thou  wilt  not. 
Look  !  I  would  rather  look  on  thee  one  minute, 
Than  paradise  for  a  whole  day  —  such  days 
As  are  in  Heaven.     I  love  thee  more  and  more. 

Elissa.     To  love,  and  say  we  love  —  to  suck 
the  sting 
Out  of  the  heart,  and  put  its  poison  on 
TJie  tongue. 

Festus.        Yet  it  is  luxury  to  feel 
Inflamed  —  to  glow  within  ourselves,  like  fire-opals. 
Now,  stay  thy  pretty  little  tuneful  tongue, 
Nor  silver  o'er  thy  syllables !     They  will  not 
Pass.     No,  not  one  more  word  !     I  must  away ; 
I  have  staid  too  long,  already,  for  my  word. 

Elissa.     I  cannot  part  with  thee :  nay,  sit  again ! 
Parted  from  thee  I  feel  like  one  half  riven, 
And  my  soul  acheth  to  spring  to  —  as  thus ! 

Festus.    There !    let  me  leave  love !   let  me 
loose  these  arms. 
Another  time  and,  ah !  well  —  never  mind ! 
We  shall  be  happier  —  I  know  we  shall. 


FESTUS.  339 

Thou  hast  been  mine  —  thou  art  mine  —  and  thou 

shalt  be ! 
Elissa.    My  life  is  one  long  loving  thought  of 

thee. 
If  any  ask  me  what  I  do,  I  could  say 
I  love,  and  that  is  all. 

Festus.  It  is  enough. 

One  kiss !  another !  one  more  —  there  !  farewell ! 

[  Goes. 
Elissa.     And  he  is  gone !  and  the  world  seems 

gone  with  him. 
Shine  on,  ye  Heavens !  why  can  ye  not  impart 
Light  to  my  heart  ?     Have  ye  no  feeling  in  ye  ? 
Why  are  ye  bright  when  I  am  so  unhappy  ? 
But  oh !  I  would  not  change  my  woes  for  thrice 
The  bliss  of  others,  since  they  are  for  thee,  love. 
Our  very  wretchedness  grows  dear  to  us 
When  suffering  for  one  we  love.     Sweet  stars ! 
I  cannot  look  upon  your  loveliness 
Without  sadness,  for  ye  are  too  beautiful ; 
And  beauty  makes  unhappy  :  so  men  say. 
Ye  stars !  it  is  true  —  we  read  our  fate  in  ye. 
Bright  through  all  ages,  are  ye  not  happy  there  ? 
With  years,  many  as  your  light-rays,  are  ye  not 
Immortal  ?     Space-pervading,  oh  !  ye  must  be, 
Spirit-like,  infinite.     All-being  God! 
Who  art  in  all  things,  and  in  whom  all  are  !  — 
And  it  is  thus  we  worship  Thee  the  most; 
When   heart  to   heart  with   one  we  love  we   are 

gods  ;.— 
Let  us  believe  that  if  Thou  gavest  earth 
For  our  bodies,  then  the  stars  were  for  our  souls ; 
For  perfect  beauty  and  unbounded  love ! 
Let  us  believe  they  look  upon  us  here 
As  their  inheritors,  and  save  themselves 
For  us,  as  we  for  Thee,  and  Thou  for  all ! 


340 


Scene — Garden  and  Bower  hy  the  Sea. 

Elissa,  alone.     Come,  Festus,  let  me  think  on 

thee,  my  love ! 
And  fold  the  thought  of  thee  unto  my  soul, 
Until  it  fills  it,  and  is  one  with  it. 
Ah !   these   poor   arms  are   far  from  where   they 

should  be ; 
And  this  heart  further  still.     Mine  only  love ! 
Why  art  thou  thus  so  long  away  from  me  ? 
I  have  whispered  it  unto  the  southern  wind 
And  charged  it  with  my  love :  why  should  it  not 
Carry  that  love  to  thee  as  air  bears  light  ? 
And  thou  hast  said  I  was  all  light  to  thee. 
The  stars  grow  bright  together,  and  for  aye, 
Lover-like,  watch  each  other ;  and  though  apart, 
Like  us,  they  fill  each  other's  eyes  with  love 
And  beauty  :  and  mine  only  fill  with  tears. 
Oh  !  life  is  less  than  nothing  without  love  ! 
And  what  is  love  without  the  embrace  of  love  ? 
I  would  give  worlds  for  one  more  ere  I  die. 
Festus !  come  to  me.     I  do  think  I  am  dying. 
Let  me  bequeathe  my  life  to  thee,  that  so, 
In  doubling  thine,  I  may  live  alway  with  thee. 
I  know  that  I  am  dying.     It  is  my  heart 
Which  makes  me  live  that  kills  me.     But  I  want 
To  see  him  ere  I  do  die.     Oh !  he  will  come  ! 
He  must  know  how  I  love  him.     It  is  long  — 
Long  since  I  saw  him :  I  am  ill  with  waiting. 
And  I  will  fancy  him  coming  to  me  now  — 
Now  he  is  thinking  of  me,  loving  me  — 
He  sees  me  —  flies  to  me,  half  out  of  breath  — 
His  hand  is  on  my  arm  —  he  looks  on  me  — 
And  puts  my  long  locks  backwards  —  God !    Thy 

ban 
Lies  upon  waking  dreams.     To  weep  and  sleep  — 
Dream  —  wake,   and  find    one's  only   one    hope 

false,  — 


FESTUS.  341 

Is  what  we  can  bear,  for  we  do  endure  it, 

And  bear  with  Heaven  still.     Just  one  year  ago, 

I  watched  that  large  bright  star  where  it  is  now :  — 

Time  hath  not  touched  its  everlasting  lightning, 

Nor  dimmed  the  glorious  glances  of  its  eye  — 

Nor  passion  clouded  it  —  nor  any  star 

Eclipsed  —  it  is  the  leader  still  of  Heaven. 

And  I  who  loved  it  then  can  love  it  now ; 

But  am  not  what  I  was,  in  one  degree. 

Calm  star !  who  was  it  named  thee  Lucifer, 

From  him  who  drew  the  third  of  Heaven  down  with 

him? 
Oh !  it  was  but  the  tradition  of  thy  beauty ! 
For  if  the  sun  hath  one  part,  and  the  moon  one, 
Thou  hast  the  third  part  of  the  host  of  Heaven  — 
Which  is  its  power  —  which  power  is  its  beauty  ! 

Lucifer.    It  was  no  tradition,  lady,  but  of  truth  ! 

Elissa.     I  thought  we  parted  last  to  meet  no 
more. 

Lucifer.     It  was  so  lady ;  but  it  is  not  so. 

Elissa.     Am  I  to  leave,  or  thou,  then  ? 

Lucifer.  Neither,  yet. 

I  mean  that  thou  shouldst  fear  me  and  obey. 

Elissa.     And  who  art  thou  that  I  should  fear 
and  serve  ? 

Lucifer.    I  am  the  morning  and  the  evening 
star, 
The  star  thou  lovest  and  thy  lover  too ; 
I  am  that  star !  as  once  before  I  told  thee, 
Though  thou  wouldst  not  believe  me,  but  I  am 
A  spirit,  and  a  star  —  a  power  —  an  ill 
Which  doth  outbalance  being.     Look  at  me  ! 
Am  I  not  more  than  mortal  in  my  form  ? 
Millions  of  years  have  circled  round  my  brow 
Like  worlds  upon  their  centres ;  —  still  I  live ; 
And  age  but  presses  with  a  halo's  weight. 
This  single  arm  hath  dashed  the  light  of  Heaven  ; 
This   one   hand   dragged    the    angels   from    their 
thrones :  — 


342  FESTUS. 

Am  I  not  worthy  to  have  loved  thee,  lady  ? 
Thou  mortal  model  of  all  Heavenliness  ! 
And  yet  I  have  abandoned  all  these  spoils, 
Cowered  my  powers,  and  becalmed  my  course, 
And  stooped  from  the  high  destruction  of  the  skies 
For  thee,  and  for  the  youth  who  loveth  thee  — 
And  is  lost  with  ye  :  ye  are  both,  both  —  lost ! 
Thou  hast  but  served  the  purpose  of  the  Fiend. 
And  thou  art  but  the  vessel  of  the  sin 
Whose  poison  hath  made  drunk  a  soul  to  death ; 
And  he  hath  drunk  ;  and  thou  art  useless  now. 
And  it  is  for  this  I  come ;  to  bid  thee  die  ! 

Elissa.     I  said  that  I  was  dying.     God  is  good. 
The  Heavens  grow  darker  as  they  grow  the  purer 
And  both,  as  we  do  near  them ;  so,  near  death, 
The  soul  grows  darker  and  diviner,  hourly. 
Could  I  love  less  I  should  be  happier ! 
But  it  is  always  to  that  mad  extreme, 
That  death  alone  appears  the  fitting  finish 
To  bliss  like  that  my  spirit  presses  for. 

Lucifer.     Thy  death  shall  be  as  gentle  as  thy 
life. 
I  will  not  hurt  thee,  for  I  loved  thee  once. 
And  thy  sweet  love,  upon  my  burning  breast, 
Fell  like  a  snowflake  on  a  fevered  lip. 
Thy  soul  shall  pass  out  of  thee  like  a  dream. 
One  moment  more,  and  thou  shalt  wake  in  Heaven  ! 

Elissa.    I  ever  thought  thee  to  be  more  than 
mortal. 
And  if  thou  art  thus  mighty,  grant  me  this  !  — 
Since  now  we  love  no  more  —  as  friend  to  friend  — 
Bring  him  I  love,  one  moment,  ere  I  die. 

Lucifer.     Thou  judgest  well ;  I  am  all  but  al- 
mighty. 
And  I  have  stretched  my  strength  unto  its  limits 
To  satisfy  the  heart  of  him  who  loves  thee : 
In  proof  whereof,  did  I  not  give  up  thee, 
Because   he  loved   thee  ?     I  have   given   him   all 
things 


FESTUS.  343 

Body  or  spirit  could  desire  or  have. 
And  even,  at  this  moment,  now  he  reigns 
King  of  the  sun,  and  monarch  of  the  seven 
Orbs  that  surround  him  —  leaving  earth  alone  — 
The  earth  is  in  good  keeping  as  it  is. 
I  know  that  he  is  hasting  hither  now ; 
But  may  not  see  thee  living. 

Elissa.  It  is  not  thou 

Who  takest  life  :  it  is  God,  whose  I  shall  be !  — 
And  his,  with  God,  whom  here  my  heart  deifies. 
I  glory  in  his  power  as  in  his  love. 
But  I  will,  will  see  him  while  I  am  alive. 
I  hear  him  —  he  is  come  —  it  is  he  !  it  is  he  ! 

Lucifer.     Die !  thou  shalt  never  look  on  him 
again. 

Elissa.    My  love  !  haste,  Festus  !  I  am  dying  — 

Lucifer.  Dead ! 

A  word  could  kill  her.     She  hath  gone  to  Heaven. 

Festus.     Fiend !  what  is  this  ?     Elissa — she  is 
not  dead. 

Lucifer.     She  is.    I  bade  her  die,  as  I  had 
reason. 

Festus.     Now  do  I  hate  thee  and  renounce  for 
ever ! — 
AJbhor  thee  —  go  ! 

Lucifer.  Who  seeks  the  other  first  ? 

£  am  gone. 

Festus.   Away,  Fiend!   Leave  me!    My  Elissa! 


Scene  —  A    Library   and   Balcony  —  A    Summer 

Night. 

Festus  alone.     The  last  high  upward  slant  of 
sun  on  the  trees, 
Like  a  dead  soldier's  sword  upon  his  pall, 
Seems  to  console  earth  for  the  glory  gone. 
Oh !  I  could  weep  to  see  the  day  die  thus  ; 
The  death-bed  of  a  day,  how  beautiful! 


344  FESTUS. 

Linger,  ye  clouds,  one  moment  longer  there ; 
Fan  it  to  slumber  with  your  golden  wings  ! 
Like  pious  prayers  ye  seem  to  soothe  its  end. 
It  will  wake  no  more  till  the  all-revealing  day ; 
When,  like  a  drop  of  water,  greatened  bright 
Into  a  shadow,  it  shall  show  itself 
With  all  its  little  tyrannous  things  and  deeds, 
Unhomed    and    clear.      The   day  hath    gone    to 

God, — 
Straight,  like  an  infant's  spirit,  or  a  mocked 
And  mourning  messenger  of  grace  to  man. 
Would  it  had  taken  me  too  on  its  wing ! 
My  end  is  nigh.     Would  I  might  die  outright ! 
And  slip  the  coil  without  waiting  its  unwind. 
Who  that  hath  lain  lonely  on  a  high  hill, 
In  the  imperious  silence  of  full  noon, 
With  nothing  but  the  clear  dark  sky  about  him, 
Like  God's  hand  laid  upon  the  head  of  earth  — 
But  hath  expected  that  some  natural  spirit 
Should  start  out  of  the  universal  air  — 
And  gathering  his  cloudy  robe  around  him, 
As  one  in  act  to  teach  mysterious  things, 
Explain  that  he  must  die  ?  —  that  having  got 
As  high  as  earth  can  lift  him  up  —  as  far 
Above  that  thing,  the  world,  as  flesh  can  mount — 
Over  the  tyrant  wind,  and  the  clouded  lightning, 
And  the  round  rainbow —  and  that  having  gained 
A  loftier  and  a  more  mysterious  beauty 
Of  feeling  —  something  like  a  starry  darkness 
Seizing  the  soul  —  say  he  must  die  —  and  vanish  ? 
Who  hath  not,  at  such  moments,  felt  as  now 
I  feel,  that  to  be  happy  we  must  die  ? 
And  here  I  rest  —  above  the  world  and  its  ways ; 
The  wind,  opinion  —  and  the  rainbow,  beauty  — 
And  the  thunder,  superstition  —  I  am  free  - 
Of  all :  —  save  death,  what  want  I  to  be  happy  ? 
And  shall  I  leave  no  trace,  then,  of  my  life  ? 
The  soul  begetteth  shadows  of  itself 
Which  do  outlive  their  author :  and  are  more 


FESTUS.  345 

Substantial  than  all  nature,  and  the  red 

Realities  of  flesh  and  blood,  as  echo 

Is  longer,  louder,  further  than  the  voice 

Of  man  can  thunder,  or  his  ear  report. 

And  oft  the  world  hath  Deified  its  echoes. 

A  year !  —  and  who  shall  find  them  ?     Can  it  be 

The  mind's  works  have  been  deathless  —  not  the 

mind  ? 
Or  will  the  world's  immortals  die  with  me  ?  — 
The  sages,  and  the  heroes,  and  the  bards,  — 
Whose  verse  set  to  the  thunder  of  the  seas, 
Seems  as  immortal  as  their  ceaseless  music ! 

0  God !  I  fain  would  deem  Thou  livest  not : 

And  that  this  world  hath  sprung  up  from  chance 

seed, 
Unknown  to  thee ;  and  is  not  reckoned  on. 
Hell  solves  all  doubts.  —  Come  to  me,  Lucifer  ! 
Lucifer.     Lo  !  I  am  here  :  and  ever  prompt 
When  called  for. 
How  speed  thy  general  pleasures  ? 

Festus.  Bravely !  joys 

Are  bubble-like  —  what  makes  them,  bursts  them, 

too. 
And,  like  the  milky  way,  there  !  dim  with  stars, 
The  soul  that  numbers  most  will  shine  the  less. 
Lucifer.     No  matter  —  mind  it  not ! 
Festus.  Yet,  joys  of  earth ! 

That  ye  should  ruin  spirits  is  too  hard. 
Who  can  avoid  ye  ?  who  can  say  ye  nay  ? 
Or  take  his  eyes  from  off  ye  ?  who  so  chaste  ? 
Lucifer.     They  have  well-nigh  unimmortalized 

myself. 
Festus.     Yet  have  they  nought  to   sate    the 
pining  spirit 
Which  doth  enamor  immortality. 
No !  they  are  all  base,  impure,  ruinous  — 
The  harlots  of  the  heart.     Forgive  me,  God  I 

1  am  getting  too  forlorn  to  live  —  too  waste. 
.  Aught  that  I  can  or  do  love,  shoots  by  me, 


346  FESTUS. 

Like  a  train  upon  an  iron  road.     And  yet 

I  need  not  now  reproach  mine  arm  or  aim ; 

For  I  have  winged  each  pleasure  as  it  flew, 

How  swift  or  high  soever  in  its  flight. 

We  cannot  live  alone.     The  heart  must  have 

A  prop  without,  or  it  will  fall  and  break. 

But  nature's  common  joys  are  common  cheats. 

As  he  who  sails  southwards,  beholds,  each  night, 

New  constellations  rise,  all  clear,  and  fair ; 

So,  o'er  the  waters  of  the  world,  as  we 

Reach  the  mid  zone  of  life,  or  go  beyond, 

Beauty  and  bounty  still  beset  our  course  ; 

New  beauties  wait  upon  us  everywhere ; 

New  lights  enlighten  and  new  worlds  attract. 

But  I  have  seen  and  I  have  done  with  all. 

Friendship  hath  passed  me  like  a  ship  at  sea ; 

And  I  have  seen  no  more  of  it.     I  had 

A  friend  with  whom,  in  boyhood,  I  was  wont 

To   learn,   think,   laugh,   weep,   strive,  and   love, 

together ; 
For  we  were  alway  rivals  in  all  things  — 
Together  up  high  springy  hills,  to  trace 
A  runnel  to  its  birthplace  —  to  pursue 
A  river — to  search,  haunt  old  ruined  towers, 
And  muse  in  them  —  to  scale  the  cloud-clad  hills 
While  thunders  murmured  in  our  very  ear  ; 
To  leap  the  lair  of  the  live  cataract, 
And  pray  its  foaming  pardon  for  the  insult ; 
To  dare  the  broken  tree-bridge  across  the  stream ; 
To  crouch  behind  the  broad  white  waterfall, 
Tongue  of  the  glen,  like  to  a  hidden  thought  — 
Dazzled,  and  deafened,  yet  the  more  delighted ; 
To  reach  the  rock  which  makes  the  fall  and  pool 
There  to  feel  safe,  or  not  to  care  if  not; 
To  fling  the  free  foot  over  my  native  hills, 
Which  seemed  to  breathe  the  bracing  breeze  we 

loved 
The  more  it  lifted  up  our  loosened  locks, 
That  nought  might  be  between  us  and  the  skies ; 


FESTUS.  347 

Or,   hand  in   hand,   leap,   laughing,   with    closed 

eyes, 
In  Trent's  death-loving  deeps  ;  yet  was  she  kind 
Ever  to  us  ;  and  bare  us  buoyant  up, 
And    followed  our  young    strokes,    and  cheered 

us  on  — 
Even  as  an  elder  sister  bending  above 
A  child,  to  teach  it  how  to  order  its  feet  — 
As  quick  we  dashed,  in  reckless  rivalry, 
To   reach,   perchance,   some   long,   green  floating 

flag  — 
Just  when  the  sun's  hot  lip  first  touched  the  stream, 
Reddening  to  be  so  kissed ;  and  we  rejoiced, 
As  breasting  it  on  we  went  over  depth  and  death, 
Strong  in  the  naked  strife  of  elements, 
Toying  with  danger  in  as  little  fear 
As  with  a  maiden's  ringlets.     And  oft,  at  night, 
Bewildered  and  bewitched  by  favorite  stars, 
We  would  breathe  ourselves  amid  unfooted  snows, 
For  there  is  poetry  where  aught  is  pure ; 
Or   over  the   still   dark   heath,   leap    along,   like 

harts, 
Through  the  broad  moonlight ;  for  we  felt  where- 

e'er 
We  leapt  the  golden  gorse,  or  lowly  ling, 
We   could   not  be   from  home. — That  friend   is 

gone. 
There's  the  whole  universe  before  our  souls. 
Where  shall  we  meet  next?    Shall  we  meet  again  ? 
Oh !  might  it  be  in  some  far  happy  world, 
That  I  might  light  upon  his  lonely  soul, 
Hard  by  some  broad  blue  stream,  where  high  the 

hills, 
Wood-bearded,   sweep   to  its  brink — musing,   as 

wont, 
With  love-like  sadness,  upon  sacred  things ; 
For  much  in  youth  we  loved  and  mused  on  them. 
To  say  what  ought  to  be  to  human  wills, 
And  measure  mortals  sternly ;  to  explore 


348  FESTUS. 

The  bearings  of  men's  duties  and  desires ; 
To  note  the  nature  and  the  laws  of  mind ; 
To  balance  good  with  evil ;  and  compare 
The  nature  and  necessity  of  each; 
To  long  to  see  the  ends  and  end  of  things ; 
Or,  if  no  end  there  be,  the  endless,  then, 
As  suns  look  into  space ;  these  were  our  joys  — > 
Our  hopes  —  our  meditations  —  our  attempts. 
And,  if  I  have  enjoyed  more  love  than  others, 
It  is  but  superior  suffering,  and  is  more 
Than  balanced  by  the  loss  of  one  we  love. 
And  love,  itself,  hath  passed.      One  fond,  fair  girl 
Remains ;  one  only,  and  she  loves  me  still. 
But  it  is  not  love  I  feel :  it  is  pure  kindness. 
How  shall  I  find  another  like  my  last  ? 
The  golden  and  the  gorgeous  loveliness  — 
A  sunset  beauty  !     Ah  !  I  saw  it  set. 
My  heart,  alas !  set  with  it.     I  have  drained 
Life  of  all  love,  as  doth  an  iron  rod 
The  Heaven's  of  lightning ;  I  have  done  with  it, 
And  all  its  waking  woes,  and  dreamed-of  joys. 
No  more  shall  beauty  star  the  air  I  live  in ; 
And  no  more  will  I  wake  at  dead  of  night, 
And  hearken  to  the  roaring  of  the  wind, 
As  though  it  came  to  carry  one  away  — 
Claiming  for  sin.     Ah  !  I  am  lost  forever. 
To  earn  the  world's  delights  by  equal  sins 
Seems  the  great  aim  of  life  —  the  aim  succeeds. 
Here  it  is  madness,  and  perdition  there. 
And,  but  for  thee,  I  had  renounced  these  joys  — 
These  cursed  joys  my  soul  now  writhes  among, 
Like  to  a  half-crushed  reptile  on  a  rose :  — 
Ay,  but  for  thee,  I  might  have  now  been  happy ! 
Lucifer.     Why  charge,  why  wrong  me  thus  ? 
When  first  I  knew  thee, 
I  deemed  it  thine  ambition  to  be  damned. 
Thine  every  thought,  almost,  had  gone  from  good, 
As  far  as  finite  is  from  infinite  ; 
And  then  thou  wast  as  near  to  me  as  now. 


FESTUS.  349 

Thou  liadst  declined  in  worship,  and  in  wish 

To  please  thy  God  ;  nor  wouldst  thou  e'er  repent 

What  more  need  I  to  justify  attempt  ? 

Have  I  shrunk  back  from  granting  aught  I  proin- 

ised? 
Thy  love  of  knowledge  —  is  that  satisfied  ? 

Festus.     It  is.     Yet  knowledge  is  a  doubtful 
boon  — 
Root  of  all  good  and  fruit  of  all  that 's  bad. 
I  have  caused  face  to  face  with  elements, 
Yea,  learned  the  luminous  language  of  the  skies, 
And  the  angelic  kindred  of  high  Heaven ; 
The  bright  articulations  of  all  spheres,  — 
Impetuous  hearted  orbs,  and  mountain-maned, 
Aye  circling  onwards  breathless  through  the  air  — 
And  wisest  stars  which  speak  themselves  in  signs 
Too  sacred  to  be  explicable  here  ; 
And  now  what  better  am  I  ?  —  nearer  God  ? 
When  the  void  finds  a  voice  mine  answer  know. 

Lucifer.      What  better  or  what  worse  thou 
canst  not  tell. 
For,  good  and  evil !     Wherein  differ  they  ? 
Do  they  not  both  accrue  from  the  same  cause,  — 
As  ripeness  and  decay  ?     Light,  light  alone 
Of  hues,  how  contrary  soever,  is 
The  common  cause. 

Festus.  Distractor  of  God's  truth  ! 

Shall  not  His  word  suffice  the  living  world  ? 

Lucifer.     Thou  canst  not  have  lacked  joys  ? 

Festus.  We  seek  them  oft 

Among  our  own  delusions,  pains,  and  follies. 

Lucifer.      Hath   not   care   perished  from   thy 
heart,  as  did 
The  viper  flung  from  the  apostle's  hand  ? 

Festus.     Ay ;   and,  like  rftat,  all  care  will  cease 
in  fire. 
Dark  wretched  thoughts,  like  ice-isles  in  a  stream, 
Choke  up  my  mind,  and  clash ;  —  and  to  no  end. 
In  spite  of  all  we  suffer  and  enjoy, 


350  FESTUS. 

There  comes  this  question,  over  and  over  again, 

Driven  into  the  brain  as  a  pile  is  driven  — 

What  shall  become  of  us  hereafter  ?  what 

Is  it  we  shall  do  ?  how  feel,  how  be  ? 

And  there  are  times  when  burning  memory  flows 

In  on  the  mind,  that  saving  it  would  slay, 

As  did  the  lava-floods  which  choked  of  yore 

The  Cyclopean  cities  —  brimming  up 

Brasslike  their  mighty  moulds.      And  shall  the  past 

Thus  ruinously  perfect  aye  remain  ; 

Or  present,  past,  and  coming,  all  be  one, 

In  natural  mystery  ?     Like  snow,  which  lies 

Down-wreathed  round  the  lips  of  some  black  pit, 

Thoughts  which  obscure  the  truth  accumulate, 

And  those  which  solve  it  in  it  lose  themselves ; 

And  there  is  no  true  knowledge  till  descent, 

Nor  then  till  after.     What  shall  make  the  truth 

Visible  ?     Through  the  smoky  glass  of  sense 

The  blessed  sun  would  never  know  himself. 

All  truth  is  one.     All  error  is  alike. 

The  shadow  of  a  mountain  hath  no  more 

Substance   than   hath   a   dead   and  moss-mailed 

pine's ; 
But  only  more  gigantic  impotence. 

Lucifer.      Hast    thou    not    had   thine    every 
quest  ? 

Festus.         Save  one. 

Lucifer.     I  proffer  now  the  power  which  thou 
dost  long  for. 
Say  but  the  word,  and  thou  shalt  press  a  throne 
But    less    than    mine  —  the    scarcely    less    than 

God's ;  — 
A  throne,  at  which  earth's  puny  potentates 
May  sue  for  slavedoms  —  and  be  satisfied. 

Festus.     I  have  kad  enough  of  the  infinities: 
I  am  moderate  now.     I  will  have  the  throne  of 
earth. 

Lucifer.     Thou  shalt.    Yet,  mind! — with  that, 
the  world  must  end. 


FESTUS.  351 

Festus.    I  can  survive. 

Lucifer.  Nay,  die  with  it  must  thou. 

Festus.    Why  should  I  die  ?     I  am  egg-full  of 
life: 
And  life 's  as  serious  a  thing  as  death. 
The  world  is  in  its  first  young  quarter  yet ; 
I  dare  not,  cannot  credit  it  shall  die. 
I  will  not  have  it,  then. 

Lucifer.  It  matters  not ; 

I  know  thou  wilt  never  have  ease  at  heart 
Until  thou  hast  thy  soul's  whole,  full  desire ; 
Whenever  that  may  happen,  all  is  done. 

Festus.     Well,  then — be  it  now!     I  live  but 
for  myself — 
The  whole  world  but  for  me.     Friends,  loves,  and 

all 
I  sought,  abandon  me.     It  is  time  to  die. 
I  am  yet  young ;  yet  have  I  been  deserted, 
And  wronged,  by  those  whom  most  I  have  loved 

and  served. 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars !  may  they  all  fall  on  me, 
When  next  I  trust  another  —  man  or  woman. 
Earth  rivals  Hell  too  often,  at  the  best.. 
All  hearts  are  stronger  for  the  being  hollow. 
And  that  was  why  mine  was  no  match  for  theirs. 
The  pith  is  out  of  it  now.  —  Lord  of  the  world ! 
It  will  not  directly  perish  ? 

Lucifer.  Not,  perhaps. — 

Thou  wilt  have  all  fame,  while  thou  livest,  now. 

Festus.    I  care  not:  fame  is  folly:  for,  it  is,  sure, 
Far  more  to  be  well  known  of  God  than  man. 
With  all  my  sins  I  feel  that  I  am  God's. 

Lucifer.     Farewell,  then,  for  a  time ! 

Festus.  I  am  alone. — 

Alone  ?     He  clings  around  me  like  the  clouds 
Upon  a  hill.     When  will  the  clouds  roll  off? 
When  will  sun  visit  me  ?     Oh  !     Thou  great  God ! 
In  whose  right  hand  the  elements  are  atoms  — 
In  whose  eye,  light  and  darkness  but  a  wink  — 


352  FESTUS. 

Who,  in  Thine  anger,  like  a  blast  of  cold, 

Dost  make   the   mountains   shake   like   chattering 

teeth  — 
Have  mercy  !     Pity  me  !     For  it  is  Thou 
Who  hast  fixed  me  to  this  test.  Wilt  Thou  not  save  ? 
Forgive  me,  Father !  but  I  long  to  die :  — 
I  long  to  live  to  Thee,  a  pure,  free  mind. 
Take  again,  God !  and  thou,  fair  Earth,  the  form 
And  spirit  which,  at  first,  ye  lent  me. 
Such  as  they  were,  I  have  used  them.     Let  them 

part. 
I  weary  of  this  world ;  and,  like  the  dove, 
Urged  o'er  life's  barren  flood,  sweep,  tired,  back 
To  thee  who  sent'st  me  forth.    Bear  with  me,  God  ! 
I  am  not  worthy  of  thy  wrath,  nor  love !  — 
Oh !  that  the  things  which  have  been  were  not  now 
In  memory's  resurrection  !     But  the  past 
Bears  in  her  arms  the  present  and  the  future ; 
And  what  can  perish  while  perdition  is  ? 
From  the  hot,  angry,  crowding  courts  of  doubt 
Within  the  breast,  it  is  sweet  to  escape,  and  soothe 
The  soul  in  looking  upon  natural  beauty. 
Oh !  earth,  like  man  her  son,  is  half  divine. 
There  is  not  a  leaf  within  this  quiet  spot, 
But  which  I  seem  to  know ;  should  miss,  if  gone. 
I  could  run  over  its  features,  hour  by  hour. 
The  quaintly  figured  beds  —  the  various  flowers  — 
The  mazy  paths  all  cunningly  converged  — 
The  black  yew  hedge,  like  a  beleaguering  host, 
Round  some  fair  garden  province  —  here  and  there, 
The  cloud-like  laurel  clumps  sleep,  soft  and  fast, 
Pillowed  by  their  own  shadows  —  and  beyond, 
The  ripe  and  ruddy  fruitage  —  the  sharp  firs' 
Fringe,  like  an  eyelash,  on  the  faint-blue  west  — 
The  white  owl,  wheeling  from  the  gray  old  church, — 
Its  age-peeled  pinnacles,  and  tufted  top  — 
The  oaks,  which  spread  their  broad  arms  in  the  blast, 
And  bid  storms  come,  and  welcome ;  there  they  stand, 
To  whom  a  summer  passes  like  a  smile :  — 


FESTUS.  353 

And  the  proud  peacock  towers  himself  there,  and 

screams, 
Ruffling  the  imperial  purples  of  his  neck. 
O'er  all,  the  giant  poplars,  which  maintain 
Equality  with  clouds  half  way  up  Heaven ; 
Which  whisper  with  the  winds  none  else  can  see, 
And  bow  to  angels  as  they  wing  by  them ;  — 
The  lonely,  bowery,  woodland  view  before  — 
And,  making  all  more  beautiful,  thou,  sweet  moon, 
Leading  slow  pomp,  as  triumphing  o'er  Heaven ! 
High  riding  in  thy  loveless,  deathless  brightness, 
And  in  thy  cold,  unconquerable  beauty, 
As  though  there  were  nothing  worthy  in  the  world 
Even  to  lie  below  thee,  face  to  God. 
And  Night,  in  her  own  name,  and  God's  again, 
Hath  dipped  the  earth  in  dew ;  —  and  there  she  lies, 
Even  like  a  heart  all  trembling  with  delight, 
Till  passion  murder  power  to  speak  —  so  mute. 
Young  maiden  moon  !  just  looming  into  light  — 
I  would  that  aspect  never  might  be  changed ; 
Nor  that  fine  form,  so  spirit-like,  be  spoiled 
With  fuller  light.     Oh !  keep  that  brilliant  shape ; 
Keep  the  delicious  honor  of  thy  youth, 
Sweet  sister  of  the  sun,  more  beauteous  thou 
Than  he  sublime.     Shine  on,  nor  dread  decay. 
It  may  take  meaner  things ;  but  thy  bright  look, 
Smiling  away  an  immortality, 
Assures  it  us  —  nay,  it  seems,  half,  to  give. 
Earth  may  decease.     God  will  not  part  with  thee, 
Fair  ark  of  light,  and  every  blessedness  ! 
Yes,  earth,  this  earth,  may  foul  the  face  of  life, 
Like  some  swart  mole  on  beauty's  breast  —  or  dead, 
Stiff,  mangled  reptile,  some  clear  well  —  while  thou 
Shalt  shine,  aye  brilliant,  on  creation's  corse, 
Like  to  a  diamond  on  a  dead  man's  hand ; 
Whence  God  shall  pluck  thee  to  his  breast,  or  bid 
Beam  'mid  His  lightning  locks.     What  are  earth's 

To  watching  thee,  tending  thy  bright  flock  over 
23 


854  FESTUS. 

The  fields  of  Heaven  ?     Thy  light  misleadeth  not, 
Though   eyes   which  image   Heaven   oft    lure  to 

Hell;  — 
Thy  smile  betrayeth  not  —  though  sweet  as  that 
Which  wins  and  damns.   Mother,  and  maid  of  light! 
That,  like  a  God,  redeems  the  world  to  Heaven  — 
Making  us  one  with  thee,  and  with  the  sun, 
And  with  the  stars  in  glory  —  lovely  moon  ! 
I  am  immortal  as  thyself;  and  we 
Shall  look  upon  each  other  yet,  in  Heaven, 
Often  —  but  never,  never  more  on  earth. 
Am  I  to  die  so  soon?     This  death — the  thought 
Comes  on  my  heart  as  through  a  burning  glass. 
I  cannot  bend  mine  eyes  to  earth,  but  thence 
It  riseth,  spectre-like,  to  mock  —  nor  towards 
The  west,  where  sunset  is,  whose  long  bright  pomp 
Makes  men   in  love   with   change  —  but  there  it 

lowers 
Eve's  last,  still  lingering,  darkening,  cloud ;  and  on 
The  escutcheon  of  the  morn,  it  is  there  —  it  is  there ! 
But  fears  will  come  upon  the  bravest  mind, 
Like  the  white  moon  upon  the  crimson  west. 
I  have  attractions  for  all  miseries : 
And  every  course  of  thought,  within  my  heart, 
Leaves  a  new  layer  of  woe.     But  it  must  end. 
It  will  all  be  one,  hereafter.     Let  it  be ! 
My  bosom,  like  the  grave,  holds  all  quenched  pas- 
sions. 
It  is  not  that  I  have  not  found  what  I  sought  — 
But,  that  the  world  —  tush !  I  shall  see  it  die. 
I  hate,  and  shall  outlive  the  hypocrite. 
Stealthily,  slowly,  like  the  polar  sun, 
Who  peeps  by  fits  above  the  air-walled  world  — 
The  heavenly  fief,  he  knows  and  feels  his  own, 
My  heart  o'erlooks  the  Paradise  of  life 
Which  it  hath  lost,  in  cold,  reluctant  joy. 
I  live  and  see  all  beauteous  things  about  me, 
But  feel  no  nature  prompting  from  within 
To  meet  and  profit  by  them.    I  am  like 


FESTUS.  355 

That  fabled  forest  of  the  Apennine, 

Which  leafless  lives  ;   whereto  the  spring's  bright 

showers, 
Summer's  heat  breathless,  autumn's  fruitful  juice, 
Nothing  avail ;  —  nor  winter's  killing  cold. 
Yet  have  I  done,  said,  thought,  in  time  now  past, 
What,  rather  than  remember,  I  would  die, 
Or  do  again.     It  is  the  thinking  on 't, 
And  the  repentance,  maddens.     I  have  thought 
Upon  such  things  so  long  and  grievously, 
My  lips  have  grown  like  to  a  cliff-chafed  sea, 
Pale  with  a  tidal  passion  ;  and  my  soul, 
Once  high  and  bright  and  self-sustained  as  Heaven, 
Unsettled  now  for  life  or  death,  feels  like 
The  gray  gull  balanced  on  her  bowlike  wings, 
Between  two  black  waves  seeking  where  to  dive. 
Long  we  live,  thinking  nothing  of  our  fate, 
For  in  the  morn  of  hie  we  mark  it  not  — 
It  falls  behind  ;  but  as  our  day  goes  down 
We  catch  it  lengthening  with  a  giant's  stride, 
And  ushering  us  unto  the  feet  of  night. 
Dark  thoughts,  like  spots  upon  the  sun,  revolve 
In  troops  for  days  together  round  my  soul, 
Disfiguring  and  dimming.     Death  !  oh  death ! 
The  past,  the  present,  and  the  future,  like 
The  dog  three-headed,  by  the  gates  of  woe 
Sitting,  seem  ready  to  devour  me  each. 
I  dare  not  look  on  them.     I  dare  not  think. 
The  very  best  .deeds  I  have  ever  done 
Seem  worthy  reprobation,  have  to  be 
Repented  of.     But  have  I  done  aught  good  ? 
Oh  that  my  soul  were  calmer !     Grant  me,  God ! 
Thy  peace ;  that  added,  I  can  smile  and  die. 
Thy  Spirit  only  is  reality  : 
All  things  beside  are  folly,  falsehood,  shame. 


356  FESTUS. 


Scene — Elsewhere. 

Festus,  alone.    I  feel  as  if  I  could  devour  the 
days 
Till  the  time  came  when  I  shall  gain  mine  end ; 
God  shall  have  made  me  ruler,  and  all  worlds 
Signed  the  sublime  recognizance.     Till  then,  — 
Even  as  a  boat 'lies  rocking  on  the  beach, 
Waiting  the  one  white  wave  to  float  it  free, 
Wait  I  the  great  event ;  —  too  great  it  seems. 
Yet,  Lord,  thou  knowest  that  the  power  I  seek 
Is  but  for  others'  good  and  Thine  own  glory, 
And  the  desire  for  it  inspired  by  Thee. 
So  use  me  as  I  use  it.     Thou  hast  passed 
Thy  word  that  such  I  shall  enjoy,  and  then 
My  mission  is  accomplished  in  this  world. 
I  go  unto  another,  where  all  souls 
Begin  again,  or  take  up  life  from  where 
Death  broke  it  at.     I  cannot  think  there  will  be 
Like  disproportion  there  between  our  powers 
And  will,  as  here ;  if  not,  I  shall  be  happy. 
I  feel  no  bounds.     I  cannot  think,  but  thought 
On  thought  springs  up,  inimitably,  round, 
As  a  great  forest  sows  itself;  but  here 
There  is  nor  ground  nor  light  enough  to  live. 
Could  I,  I  would  be  everywhere  at  once, 
Like  the  sea,  for  I  feel  as  if  I  could 
Spread  out  my  spirit  o'er  the  endless  world, 
And  act  at  all  points  ;  —  I  am  bound  to  one. 
I  must  be  here,  and  there,  and  everywhere, 
Or  I  am  nowhere.     Sense,  flesh,  feeling,  fail 
Before  the  feet  of  the  imperious  mind, 
To  which  they  are  but  as  the  dust  she  treads,  — 
Windlike  treads  o'er,  uplifts  and  leaves  behind. 
How  mind  will  act  with  body  glorified 
And  spiritualized,  and  senses  fined, 
And  pointed  brilliantwise,  we  know  not.     Here, 
Even,  it  may  be  wrong  in  us  to  deem 


FESTUS.  357 

The  senses  degradations,  otherwise 

Than  as  fine  steps,  whereby  the  queenly  soul 

Conies  down  from  her  bright  throne  to  view  the 

mass 
She  hath  dominion  over,  and  the  things 
Of  her  inheritance  ;  and  reascends, 
With,  an  indignant  fiery  purity, 
Not  to  be  touched,  her  seat.     The  visible  world, 
Whereby  God  maketh  Nature  known  to  us, 
Is  not  derogatory  to  Himself 
As  the  pure  Spirit  Infinite.     A  world 
Is  but,  perhaps,  a  sense  of  God's,  by  which 
He  may  explain  His  nature,  and  receive 
Fit  pleasure.     But  the  hour  is  hard  at  hand, 
When  Time's  gray  wing  shall  winnow  all  away, 
The  atoms  of  the  earth,  the  stars  of  Heaven  ; 
When  the  created  and  Creator  mind 
Shall  know  each  other,  worlds  and  bodies  both 
Put  off  for  aye  ;  man  and  his  Maker  meet 
Where  all,  who  through  the  universe  do  well, 
Embrace   their   heart's   desire;    what  things  they 

will, 
And  whom  remember ;  live,  too,  where  they  list ; 
And  with  the  beings  they  love  best,  and  God, 
Inherit  and  inhabit  boundless  bliss. 
Hear  me,  all-favoring  God  !  my  latest  prayer ; 
Thou  unto  whom  all  nations  of  the  world 
Lift  up  their  hearts,  like  grass-blades  to  the  sun  ; 
Thou  who  hast  all  things  and  hast  need  of  nought ; 
Thou  who  hast  given  me  Earth  and  all  it  holds, 
Give  me,  from  out  Thy  garner  stored  with  good, 
Some  sign,  Lord  !  while  I  live,  in  proof  to  earth 
My  prayers  are  with   Thee;   that  they  rend  the 

clouds, 
And,  rising  through  the  sightless  dark  of  space, 
Reach  to  Thy  central  throne.     Oh !  let  me  feel, 
What  was  my  constant  dream  in  my  young  years, 
And  is  in  all  my  better  moments  now,  — 
My  hope,  my  faith,  my  nature's  sum  and  end, 


358  FESTUS. 

Oneness  with  Thee  and  Heaven.     Lord  !  make  me 

sure 
My  soul  already  is  in  unison 
With  the  triumphant.     Ah  !  I  surely  hear 
The  voices  of  the  spirits  of  the  saints, 
And  witnesses  to  the  Redeeming  Truth  ; 
Not,  as  of  old,  in  scanty  scattered  strains, 
Breathed  from  the   caves   of  earth   and  cells   of 

cities, — 
Nor  as  the  voice  of  martyr  choked  with  fire  — 
But  in  one  solemn  Heaven-pervading  hymn 
Of  happiness  impregnable,  as  when 
From  the  bright  walls  of  the  Son's  city  they 
Looked  on  the  war  of  Hell,  host  upon  host, 
Foiled  by  God's  single  sword  before  their  gates, 
Of  perfect  pearl ;  —  nearer  and  nearer  now  ! 
This    is    the    sign,    O    God !    which    Thou    hast 

given, 
And  I  will  praise  Thee  through  Eternity. 

The  Saints  from  Heaven. 

Call  all  who  love  Thee,  Lord,  to  Thee  ! 

Thou  knowest  how  they  long 
To  leave  these  broken  lays,  and  aid 

In  Heaven's  unceasing  song ; 
How  they  long,  Lord,  to  go  to  Thee, 

And  hail  Thee  with  their  eyes,  — 
Thee  in  Thy  blessedness,  and  all 

The  nations  of  the  skies ; 

All  who  have  loved  Thee  and  done  well, 

Of  every  age,  creed,  clime, 
The  host  of  saved  ones  from  the  ends 

And  all  the  worlds  of  time : 
The  wise  in  matter  and  in  mind, 

The  soldier,  sage,  and  priest, 
King,  prophet,  hero,  saint,  and  bard, 

The  greatest  soul  and  least ; 


FESTUS.  359 

The  old  and  young  and  very  babe, 

The  maiden  and  the  youth, 
All  re-born  angels  of  one  age  — 

The  age  of  Heaven  and  truth ; 
The  rich,  the  poor,  the  good,  the  bad, 

Redeemed,  alike,  from  sin ; 
Lord  !  close  the  book  of  time,  and  let 

Eternity  begin." 

Festus.     Will  ye  away,  ye  blessed  ones  ?     To 

God 
I  then  commend  ye,  and  my  soul  with  yours. 
And  midst  the  light  in  which  ye  live,  oh !  mind 
Of  all  the  sunless  days  and  starless  nights 
Which  myriads  pass  on  earth,  and  pray  for  them ! 
Oh !  pray  for  those  who  in  the  world's  dark  womb 
Are  bound,  who  know  not  yet  their  Father,  God! — 
Lord  of  all  earth,  all  worlds,  all  Heaven !  lift  up 
My  spirit  to  Thy  glory !     Let  me  share 
The  comfort  of  Thy  love,  and  while  ordained 
To  the  great  task  I  have  to  go  through,  let 
No  more  misgivings,  fears,  nor  mortal  doubts, 
With  the  cold  dew  of  darkness  chill  the  soul 
Which  thou   hast  hallowed   with   Thy  love,   and 

which, 
Like  molten  gold  within  its  mould,  hath  made 
The  thing  that  holds  it  precious ;  —  or  if,  Lord  ! 
For  Thine  own  purpose,  Thou  wilt  suffer  such, 
May  they  pass  quick  and  perish  tracelessly ; 
So,  too,  all  thoughts  of  earth  and  pangs  of  death 
May  I  o'ercome  at  last,  and  with  Thy  chosen, 
Seraphs  and  saints,  and  all-possessing  souls, 
Which  minister  unto  the  universe, 
Enthroned  in  spirit  and  intensest  bliss, 
Succeed  to  Heaven  for  ever. 

Guardian  Angel.  Mortal,  hear  ! 

The  soul  once  saved  shall  never  cease  from  bliss, 
Nor  God  lose  that  He  buyeth  with  his  blood. 
She  doth  not  sin.     The  deeds  which  look  like  sin, 


3G0  FESTUS. 

The  flesh  and  the  false  world,  are  all  to  her 
Hallowed  and  glorified.     The  world  is  changed. 
She  hath  a  resurrection  unto  God 
While  in  the  flesh,  before  the  final  one, 
And  is  with  God.     Her  state  shall  never  fail. 
Even  the  molten  granite  which  hath  split 
Mountains,  and  lieth  now  like  curdled  blood 
In  marble  veins,  shall  flow  again  when  comes 
The  heat  which  is  to  end  all ;  when  the  air 
Is  as  a  ravening  fire,  and  what  at  first 
Produced,  at  last  consumeth ;  but  the  soul 
Redeemed  is  dear  to  God  as  His  own  throne, 
And  shall  no  sooner  perish.     Hearken  man  ! 
Wilt   thou   distrust   God  ?      Doubt  on   doubt   no 

more. 
Prepare  thee  for  the  power  and  lot  sublime 
Whereto   the   Lord   hath   called  thee.     He   hath 

heard 
The  prayers  with  which  thou  hast  entreated  Him, 
And  bids  me  tell  thee,  shrink  not,  doubt  not.     He 
Will  comfort  and  uphold  thee  at  the  end ; 
For  after  God  the  Chooser,  God  the  Slain, 
Cometh  the  God  of  Comfort  to  the  heart, 
Whose  action  and  effect  is  ministrant 
For  ever  after  —  consummating  all. 

Festus.     I  fear,  I  fear  this  miracle  of  Death 
Is  something  terrible.     But  go  to  God, 
Thou  angel,  and  declare  that  I  repent 
Of  all  misdeeds ;  that  but  for  His  own  grace 
I  should  repent  of  my  whole  life  ;  that  on 
That  grace,  which  now  hath  sanctified  the  whole, 
I  trust  for  all  the  rest  of  it,  and  then 
For  ever ;  that  I  am  prepared  to  act 
And  suffer  as  He  bids,  and  in  all  things 
To  do  His  will  rejoicing. 

Angel.  It  is  done. 

Festus.     Oh  !     I  repent  me  of  a  thousand  sins,, 
In  number  as  the  breaths  which  I  have  breathed. 
Am  I  forgiven  ? 


FESTUS.  361 

Angel.  Child  of  God,  thou  art. 

It  is  God  prompts,  inspires,  and  answers  prayer : 
Not  sin,  nor  yet  repentance,  which  avails  : 
And  none  can  truly  worship  but  who  have 
The  earnest  of  their  glory  from  on  high  — 
God's  nature  in  them.     The  world  cannot  worship. 
And  whether  the  lip  speak,  or  in  inspired 
Silence  we  clasp  our  hearts  as  a  shut  book 
Of  song  unsung,  the  silence  and  the  speech 
Is  each  His  ;  and  as  coming  from  and  going 
To  Him,  is  worthy  of  Him  and  His  Love. 
Prayer  is  the  spirit  speaking  truth  to  Truth ; 
The  expiration  of  the  thing  inspired. 
I  go.     Thy  God  is  with  thee.     We  shall  meet 
Again  in  Heaven,  no  more  to  part. 

Festus.  Thou  art  gone  ! 

'Tis  sweet  to  feel  we  are  encircled  here 
By  breath  of  angels  as  the  stars  by  Heaven ; 
And  the  soul's  own  relations,  all  divine, 
As  kind  as  even  those  of  blood ;  —  and  thus 
While  friends  and  kin,  like  Saturn's  double  rings, 
Cheer  us  along  our  orbit,  we  may  feel 
We  are  not  lone  in  life,  but  that  earth 's  part 
Of  Heaven  and  all  things.     Praise  we,  therefore, 

God! 
O  all  ye  angels,  pray  and  praise  with  us !  — 


Scene  —  A  Gathering  of  Kings  and  Peoples. 

Festus,  throned.    Princes  and  Peoples  !     Pow< 
ers  once,  of  earth  ! 
It  suits  not  that  I  point  to  ye  the  path 
By  which  I  reached  this  sole  supreme  domain  — 
This  mountain  of  all  mortal  might.     Enough, 
That  I  am  monarch  of  the  world  —  the  world. 
Let  all  acknowledge  loyally  my  laws, 
And  love  me  as  I  them  love  !     It  will  be  best. 
No  rise  against  me  can  stand.    I  rule  of  God ; 


362  FESTUS. 

And  am  God's  sceptre  here.     Think  not  the  world 

Is  greater  than  my  might  —  less  than  my  love  — 

Or  that  it  stretcheth  further  than  mine  arm  ! 

Kings  !  ye  are  Kings  no  longer.     Cast  your  crowns 

Here  —  for  my  footstool.     Every  power  is  mine. 

Nobles !  be  first  in  honor.     Ye,  too,  lose 

Your  place,  in  place :  retrieve  yourselves  in  good. 

Peoples  !  be  mighty  in  obedience. 

Let  each  one  labor  for  the  common  weal. 

Be  every  man  a  people  in  his  mind. 

Kings  —  nobles  —  nations !  love  me  and  obey. 

I  need   no  aid  —  no  arms.     Burn  books — break 

swords ! 
The  world  shall  rest,  and  moss  itself  with  peace. 
Stand  forth,  and  speak,  sole  servant  of  my  throne  ! 
If  aught  thou  hast  to  settle  and  explain  — 
Or  send  away  these  nations  to  their  homes. 
Lucifer.     Ye   mighty  once  —  ye   many   weak 


mve  ear 


I  and  my  god  —  for  god  he  sure  must  be, 

In  human  form,  who  sitteth  there  enthroned  — 

For  readier  rule,  and  for  the  good  of  all, 

Have  cast  again  the  dynasties  of  earth 

According  to  the  courses  of  the  air :  — 

Therefore,  from  east,  and   west,  and   north,  and 

south, 
Four  element-like  ministers  shall  bend 
Before  his  feet.     Hearken,  thou  unkinged  crowd  ! 
Ye  have  not  sought  the  good  of  those  ye  governed. 
The  people  only  for  the  people  care. 
Ye  seem  to  have  thought  earth  but  a  ball  for  kings 
To  play  with  :  rolling  the  royal  bauble,  empire, 
Now  east  —  now  west.     Your  hour  and  power  is 

past. 
Ye  are  the  very  vainest  of  mankind, 
As  loftiest  things  weigh  lightest.     Ye  are  gone  ! 
Nations,  away  with  them !     Nor  do  ye  boast ! 
Ye  find  that  power  means  not  good,  not  bliss. 
But  ye  would  wed  delusion :  —  now,  ye  know  her. 


FESTUS.  363 

And  she  is  yours  for  life  —  and  death —  and  judg* 

ment. 
There  is  no  power,  nor  majesty,  save  his  : 
His  is  the  kingdom  of  the  world  and  glory. 
His  throne  is  founded  centre-deep  by  Heaven : 
And  the  whole  earth  doth  bless  him.     Unto  all 
He  hath  laid  out  one  perfect  level  law  — 
His  will.     For  as  the  people  cannot  rule 
Themselves,  so  neither  may  a  crowd  of  kings  : 
And  hence  hath  been  the  evil  of  the  earth  — 
Now  ceased  for  ever.     War  will  be  no  more. 
His  is  the  sway  of  social  sovereign  peace  : 
His  tyranny  is  love  and  good  to  all :  — 
His  is  the  vice-royed,  vouched-saf  e  sway  of  God  :  — 
And  he  will  turn  the  world,  at  will ;  as  light 
Turneth  the  world  round.     Greet  your  Lord,  and 

go! 
Depart,  ye  nations ! 

Festus.  Hark  !  thou  fiend !  dost  hear  ? 

Lucifer.     Ay  !  it  is  the  death  groan  of  the  sons 
of  men  — 
Thy  subjects  —  King ! 

Festus.  Why  hadst  thou  this  so  soon  ? 

Lucifp;r.    It  is  God  who  brings  it  all  about  — 

not  I. 
Festus.    I  am  not  ready  —  and  —  it  shall  not 

be! 
Lucifer.    I  cannot  help  it,  monarch!  and  — 
it  is! 
Hast  not  had  time  for  good ! 

Festus.  One  day  —  perchance. 

Lucifer.     Then  hold  that  day  as  an  eternity. 
Festus.     All  around  me  die.     The  earth  is  one 

great  death-bed. 
Clara.     Oh  !  save  me,  Festus !    I  have  fled  to 
thee, 
Through  all  the  countless  nations  pf  yon  dead  — 
For  well  I  knew  it  was  thou  who  sattest  there, 
To  die  with  thee,  if  that  thou  art  not  Death  : 


364  FESTUS. 

And,  if  thou  wert,  I  would  not  shrink  from  thee. 
I  am  thine  own,  own  Clara  ! 

Festus.  Thou  art  safe ! 

Here  in  the  holy  chancel  of  my  heart  — 
The  heavenly  end  of  this  our  fleshly  fane, 
I  hold  thee  to  communion.     Eest  thee  safe  ! 

Clara.     Men  thought  I   was   an   angel,   as  I 
passed ; 
And  caught  up  at  my  feet  —  but  I  'scaped  all. 
I  knew  —  I  was  sure,  that  I  should  die  by  thee. 
The  heart  is  a  true  oracle  —  I  knew  it ! 

Festus.     Then  there  is  faith  among  these  mor- 
tals yet. 
Thy  beauty  cometh  first,  and  goeth  last  — 
Willow-like.     Welcome ! 

Clara.  Oh  !  I  am  so  happy  ! 

Festus.    I  speak  of  thee  as  of  the  dead ;  the 
dead 
Are  alway  faithful. 

Clara.  I  will  stay  with  thee  — 

Though  angels  beckon  —  may  I  V     Let  me,  love ! 
I  dare  not  —  cannot,  take  mine  eyes  from  thee, 
For  fear  of  looking  on  the  dead.     Dear  Festus ! 

Festus.     Thou  art  the  only  one  hast  answered 
me, 
Love  to  love  —  life  to  life. 

Clara.  Oh  !  I  am  dying ! 

Give  me  one  kiss  —  the  kiss  of  life  and  death  — 
The  only  taste  of  earth  I  will  take  to  Heaven. 
Here  !  let  me  die,  die  in  it.  [Dies. 

Festus.  Last  and  best ! 

Now  am  I  one,  again.     Oh  !  memory  runs 
To  madness,  like  a  river  to  the  sea. 
Happy  as  Heaven  have  I  been  with  thee,  love  ! 
Thine  innocent  heart  hath  passed  through  a  pure 

life, 
Like  a  white  dqve,  wing-sunned  through  the  blue 

sky. 
A  better  heart  God  never  saved  in  Heaven. 


FESTUS.  365 

She  died  as  all  the  good  die  —  blessing  —  hoping. 
There  are  some  hearts,  aloe-like,  flower  once,  and 

die: 
And  hers  was  of  them.     Ah  !  all  life  hath  ceased. 
And  silence  reads  the  dead  world's  burial  tale. 
And  Death  sits  quivering  there,  and  watering, 
His  great,  gaunt  jaw  at  me.     When  must  I  die  ? 

Lucifer.     Say  !  dost  thou  feel  to  be  mortal,  or 
immortal  ? 

Festus.     Away  !  —  and  let  me  die  alone. 

Lucifer.  I  go : 

And  I  will  come  again :  but  spare  thee,  now, 
One  hour  to  think  —  [  Goes. 

Festus.  On  all  things.     God,  my  God ! 

One  hour  to  sum  a  life's  iniquities  ! 
One  hour  to  fit  me  for  eternity  — 
To  make  me  up  for  judgment  and  for  God ! 
Only  one  hour  to  curse  thee  !     Nay,  for  that, 
There  may  be  endless  hours.     God  !  I  despair,  — 
And  I  am  dying.     Let  me  hold  my  breath  ! 
I  know  not  if  I  ever  may  draw  another. 
I  feel  Death  blowing  hard  at  the  lamp  of  life. 
My  heart  feels  filling  like  a  sinking  boat ; 
It  will  soon  be  down  —  down.     What  will  come  of 

me  ? 
It  is  as  I  always  wished  it ;  —  I  shall  die 
In  darkness,  and  in  silence,  and  alone. 
Even  my  last  wish  is  petted.     God  !  I  thank  Thee. 
It  is  the  earnest  of  Thy  coming  —  what  ? 
Forgiveness  ?     Let  it  be  so  :  for  I  know  not 
What  I  have  done  to  merit  endless  pain. 
Is  pleasure  crime  ?     Forbid  it,  God  of  bliss ! 
Who  spurn  at  this  world's  pleasures,  lie  to  God ; 
And  show  they  are  not  worthy  of  the  next. 
What  are  Thy  joys  we  know  not  —  nor  can  we 
Come  near  Thee,  in  Thy  power,  nor  truth,  nor 

justice ; 
The  nearest  point  wherein  we  come  towards  Thee, 
Is  loving  —  making  love  —  and  being  happy. 


366  FESTUS. 

Thou  wilt  not  chronicle  our  sandlike  sins ; 
For  sin  is  small,  and  mean,  and  barren.     Good, 
Only,  is  great,  generous,  and  fruitful. 
Number  the  mountains,  not  the  sands,  O  God  ! 
God  will  not  look  as  we  do  on  our  deeds  ; 
Nor  yet  as  others.     If  He  more  condemn, 
Shall  He  not  more  approve  ?     A  few  fair  deeds 
Bedeck  my  life,  like  gilded  cherubs  on 
A  tomb,  beneath  which  lie  dust,  decay,  and  dark- 
ness. 
But  each  is  better  than  the  other  thinks. 
Thank  God  !  man  is  not  to  be  judged  by  man  :  — 
Or,  man  by  man,  the  world  would  damn  itself. 
What  do  I  see  ?     It  is  the  dead.     They  rise 
In  clouds  !  and  clouds  come  sweeping  from  all  sides. 
Upwards  to  God  :  and  now  they  are  all  gone  — 
Gone,  in  a  moment,  to  eternity. 
But  there  is  something  near  me. 

Spirit.  It  is  I. 

Festus.     Go  on  !  I  follow,  when  it  is  my  time. 
There  is  no  shadow  on  the  face  of  life  : 
It  is  the  noon  of  fate.     Why  may  not  I  die  ? 
Methinks  I  shall  have  yet  to  slay  myself. 
I  am  calm  now.     Can  this  be  the  same  heart 
Which,  when  it  did  sleep,  slept  from  dizziness, 
And  pure  rapidity  of  passion,  like 
The  centre  circlet  of  the  whirlpool's  wheel  ? 
The  earth  is  breaking  up  ;  all  things  are  thawing 
River  and  mountain  melt  into  their  atoms ; 
A  little  time,  and  atoms  will  be  all. 
The  sea  boils ;  and  the  mountains  rise  and  sink 
Like  marble  bubbles,  bursting  into  death. 
O  thou  hereafter !  on  whose  shore  I  stand  — 
Waiting  each  toppling  moment  to  engulf  me  — 
What  am  I  ?     Say,  thou  Present !  —  say,  thou  Past ! 
Ye  three  wise  children  of  Eternity ! 
A  life  ?  —  a  death  ?  —  and  an  immortal  ?  —  all  ? 
Is  this  the  threefold  mystery  of  man  ? 
The  lower,  darker  Trinity  of  earth  ? 


FESTUS*  367 

It  is  vain  to  ask.     Nought  answers  me  —  not  God. 
The  air  grows  thick  and  dark.     The  sky  comes 

doAvn. 
The  sun  draws  round  him  streaky  clouds,  like  God 
Gleaning  up  wrath.     Hope  hath  leapt  off  my  heart, 
And  overturned  it.     I  am  bound  to  die. 
God,  why  wilt  Thou  not  save  ?     The  great  round 

world 
Hath  wasted  to  a  column  beneath  my  feet. 
I  will  hurl  me  off  it,  then  ;  and  search  the  depth 
Of  space,  in  this  one  infinite  plunge  !  —  Farewell, 
To  earth,  and  Heaven,  and  God !     Doom !  spread 

thy  lap ! 
I  come  —  I  come ! 

God. 
Forbear ! 
Festus.  I  am  God's  ! 

God. 

Man,  die ! 

Scene  —  The  Skies. 

God,  Angels,  Angel  of  Earth,  Lucifeb. 

God. 
The  age  of  matter  consummates  itself. 
All  things  that  are  shall  end,  save  that  is  mine. 
As  with  one  world,  so  shall  it  be  with  all ; 
For  all  are  human,  fallible,  and  false,  — 
As  creature  towards  Creator  must  be  aye. 
But  for  the  whole  prepare  ye,  not  the  less 
Grade  upon  grade  of  glory,  sons  of  God  ! 
And  Earth  shall  live  again,  and  like  her  sons 
Have  resurrection  to  a  brighter  being : 
And  waken  like  a  bride,  or  like  a  morning, 
With  a  long  blush  of  love  to  a  new  life. 
Another  race  of  souls  shall  rule  in  her, 


868  FESTUS. 

Creatures  all  loving,  beautiful,  and  holy. 

Go,  angel !  guide  her  as  before  through  Heaven. 

Angel  of  Earth.     On  !  on !  my  world  again  1 
Away  we  fly 

Through  Heaven's  blue  plain, 
Like  thought  through  the  eye. 
Ye  angels,  keep  your  Heaven ! 

I,  Earth  ! 
For  that  with  God  I  have  striven, 
And  have  prevailed. 
I  come  once  more, 
I  come  to  thee,  Earth ! 
Like  a  ship  to  shore. 

Lucifer.     Have  not  I  triumphed  o'er  the  earth 
that  was  ? 

God. 
Prince  of  the  powers  of  air !  thy  doom  is  nigh. 
The  prison  place  of  spirits  is  for  thee  — 
As  for  all  others  thou  hast  wronged,  for  a  time  — 
But  those  who  by  my  favor  die  not.     Him 
Conduct,  ye  angels,  into  Hades ;  there 
To  wait  my  will  while  the  world's  sabbath  lasts. 


Scene  —  The  Millennial  Earth. 
Salnts  and  Angels  conversing;  Festus. 

Angel.     The  Earth  is  all  one  Eden.     Pity,  sure, 
That  it  should  ever  end. 

Saint.  I  say  not  so  ; 

Although  I  have  a  thousand  plans  in  hand, 
Some  interwoven  with  the  farthest  stars  — 
Each  one  of  which  might  ask  a  year  of  years 
To  perfect. 

Angel.     True  ;  our  Maker  knoweth  best 


FESTUS. 


36$ 


What  thought  or  deed  may  best  belong  to  time 
Or  to  eternity. 

Saint.  .  All  prophecy 

Hath  said  the   earth  shall  cease,  and  that  right 
soon. 

Festus.     'Tis  like   enough.    Beauty's  akin  to 
Death. 

Angel.     Behold,  our  sister  Graces  of  the  skies, 
Faith,   Hope,   and  Love,   descend !    Methinks  of 

late 
Ye  chiefly  dwell  on  earth. 

Love.  Where  lives  and  reigns 

The  Son  of  God,  there  are  we  ever  seen, 
Successive,  as  the  seasons  to  the  sun. 

Saints.     Well  are  ye  known  and  welcome  in  all 
worlds. 
Wherever  lofty  thought  or  godly  deed 
Is  lodged  or  compassed,  there  your  blessings  rest. 

Hope.    How  sweet,  how  sacred  now,  this  earth 
of  man's ! 
The  prelude  of  a  yet  sublimer  bliss !  — 
I  marked  it  from  the  first,  while  yet  it  lay 
Lightless  and  stirless ;  ere  the  forming  fire 
Was  kindled  in  its  bosom,  or  the  land 
Lift  its  volcanic  breastwork  up  from  sea. 
The  deluge  and  idolatries  of  men 
I   viewed,  though  shuddering,  and  with  faltering 

eye,  ^ 
E'en  to  the  incarnation  of  Heaven's  Lord, 
And  dawning  of  His  faith;  that  faith  which  was 
An  infant  and  anon  a  giant ;  was 
A  star,  and  grew  a  Heaven-fulfilling  sun ; 
Which  was  an  outcast,  and  become,  ere  long, 
A  dweller  in  all  palaces ;  which  hid 
Its  head  in  dens  of  deserts,  and  sat  throned, 
After,  in  richest  temples  high  as  hills ; 
Which  was  poured  out  in  mortal  blood,  and  rose 
In  an  immortal  spirit ;  as  a  slave 
Was  sold  for  gold  and  prostrated  to  power;  — 
24       . 


870  FESTUS. 

And  now  that  lowly  bondmaid  is  a  Queen  ; 
And  lo  !  she  is  beloved  in  earth  and  Heaven ; 
And  lieth  in  the  bosom  of  her  Lord, 
The  Bride  of  the  all-worshipped,  one  with  God. 

Love.  We  even  of  divinest  origin 
In  infinite  progression  view  all  worlds ; 
And  we  are  happy. 

Faith.  The  dead  sleep  as  yet ; 

But  their  time  cometh,  and  the  bonds  of  death 
Already  slacken  round  the  living  soul ; 
The  mortal  sleep  of  ages,  which  began 
When  Time  sank  down  into  his  slumberous  west, 
Thins  even  now  o'er  the  reviving  eyes 
Gathering   their   Heaven-lent  light,   no    more   to 

wane 
In  woe  or  age ;  never  be  quenched  in  tears 
Like  a  star  in  the  sea.     'T  is  as  I  ever  knew ; 
My  life  is  to  receive  and  to  believe 
The  Word  and  words  of  God. 

Love.  I,  who  am  Love 

And  Grace  and  Charity,  rejoice  with  you ; 
Whither  ye  wend  I  with  ye ;  whether  here, 
Or  on  the  utmost  rim  of  Light's  broad  reign  — 
The  least  and  last  of  stars  which  even  seems 
To  tremble  at  its  insignificance 
In  presence  of  Infinity ;  where  yet 
No  angel's  wing  hath  waved,  nor  foot  of  fiend 
Left  its  hot  imprint ;  —  still,  in  all  do  we 
Find  fit  delight  and  honor,  as  now  here. 
Now  earth  and  Heaven   hold  commune,  day  and 

night; 
There's  not  a  wind  but  bears  upon  its  wing 
The  messages  of  God ;  and  not  a  star 
But  knows  the  bliss  of  earth. 

Festus.  The  earth  hath  God 

Remade,  and  all  its  elements  refined, 
Fit  for  sublimer  Being.     Flesh  hath  passed 
Its  fiery  baptism,  and  come  forth  clear 
As  crystal  gold  :  all  that  of  vile  or  mean 


FESTUS.  371 

Pertained  to  it  hath  perished  atomless. 

Earth,  like  a  diamond,  basks  in  her  own  free  light; 

Unfed,  unaided,  un  requiring  aught. 

All  now  is  purity  and  power  and  peace. 

The  first-born  of  creation,  they  who  hail 

Archangels  as  their  brethren,  mountainlike 

Reign  o'er  the  plains  of  men,  converting  all; 

Reaping  the  fields  of  immortality, 

Each  one  his  sheaf,  for  Him  the  Harvest-Lord, 

To  whom  belongs  earth's  whole  estate  and  life 

And  every  world's. 

.Angel.  And  He  shall  garner  all. 

The  awful  tribes  which  have  in  Hades  dwelt, 
Past  count  of  time,  await  their  rising.     God's 
Great  day,  the  sabbath  of  the  world's  long  week, 
Is  at  high  noon ;  and  Christ  hath  yet  to  come 
To  judge  and  save  the  living  and  the  dead. 

Saint.     The  shadows  of  Eternity  o'ercast 
Already  Time's  bright  towers.     The  Heavens  shall 

come 
Down  like  a  cloud  upon  a  hill,  and  sweep 
Their  spirit  over  earth,  and  the  whole  face 
And  form  of  things  shall  be  dissolved  and  change. 
Nothing  shall  be  but  essence,  perfect,  pure, 
And  void  of  every  attribute  but  God's. 
This  even  is  too  gross  for  that  which  is 
To  come.     The  holy  have  both  earth  and  Heaven. 

Festus.     Nor  pain,  nor  toil  of  mind  or  frame, 
nor  doubt, 
Nor  discontent,  nor  enmity  to  God, 
Disturb  the  steady  joy  the  spirit  feels  ; 
Nor  element  can  torture,  nor  time  tire ; 
Nor  sea  nor  mountain  make  or  bar  or  fear; 
Sickness  and  woe  and  death  are  things  gone  by ; 
Destroyed  with  the  destruction  of  the  world  :  — 
Shadows  of  things  which  have  been,  never  more 
To  waste  the  world's  bright  hours,  nor  grate  the 

heart 
Of  mighty  man ;  now  fit  for  thrones  and  wings ; 


372  FESTUS. 

Ruler  of  worlds,  main  minister  of  Heaven, 
Inheritor  of  all  the  prophecies 
Of  God  fore-uttered  through  the  tongues  of  Time, 
Ages  of  ages.     Evil  is  no  more. 

Archangel.     And  does  earth  satisfy  thee  now  ? 

Festus.  As  earth. 

There  is  a  brighter,  loftier  life  for  man 
Even  yet,  the  very  union  with  God. 

Archangel.     God  works  by  means.     Between 
the  two  extremes 
Of  Earth  and  Heaven  there  lies  a  mediate  stat  — 
A  pause  between  the  lightning  lapse  of  life 
And  following  thunders  of  eternity  ; : — 
Between  eternity  and  time  a  lapse, 
To  soul  unconscious,  though  age-lasting,  where 
Spirit  is  tempered  to  its  final  fate ; 
When  every  interfulgent  conscious  state 
Within  or  between  worlds,  repose  or  bliss, 
Divested,  man  shall  mix  with  Deity, 
And  the  Eternal  and  Immortal  make 
One  Being.     As  in  earth's  first  paradise 
God's    Spirit   walked    with    man,   and    commune 

made 
With  him,  so  in  the  second,  after  death, 
Man's  spirit  walks  with  God  in  an  elect 
Existence,  and  a  vigil  of  the  great, 
The  holy  day  which  is  to  break  in  Heaven. 
Thither  the  Lord  of  Life  went,  in  the  hour 
That  Hell  by  earth  revenged  itself  on  Heaven, 
With  one  soul  penitent  accompanied;  — 
Nor  long  remained  He  there,  yet  long  enough 
To  cheer  earth's  faithful,  who  received  Him  then 
In  silent,  unknown  blessedness  of  soul, 
With  time-outwearing  hope  that  yet  in  Him 
They  should  partake  the  Godhood  of  His  love. 
And  with  Him  rose  then,  in  prophetic  proof 
Of  His  Divinity,  many  a  deathless  ghost, 
Triumphant  o'er  that  blind  revenge  which  wrought, 
Hell !  thy  destruction  —  thy  salvation,  Earth ! 


FESTUS.  373 

Festus.     That  such  will  be,  the  just  well  know; 
and  all 
Earth's  great  events  and  changes  tend  thereto ; 
Its  fiery  dissolution  in  the  past, 
And  supernatural  recommencement  now 
Under  the  universal  creed  of  Christ. 
The  chosen  and  the  world-redeemed  partake 
His  personal  and  spiritual  reign. 

Archangel.     And  this  shall  last,  till,  like  the 
setting  sun 
Deserting  earth,  He  shall  retire  to  Heaven, 
With  all  His  captive  victors  in  His  train, 
Triumphant,  and  translated  evermore 
Into  the  hierarchal  skies.     Wilt  see, 
While  yet  time  is,  earth's  shadowy  world  within  — 
The  inward  living  death  she  bears  about 
Her  heart,  hath  ever  borne  —  and,  augur-like, 
Explore  the  ominous  bowels  of  the  earth  ? 
To  me  are  given  the  secrets  of  the  centre, 
The  keys  of  earth,  to  lock  and  to  unlock, 
Coffer-like.     I,  it  was  who  seized  and  bound, 
At  His  behest  who  wills  and  it  is  done,  — 
Even  on  their  thrones,  the  mighty  thou  wilt  see. 

Festus.     Angel  of  Heaven !    I  would  view  these 
things. 

Archangel.    Nor  these  alone,  but  other  won- 
ders yet. 
The  valley  where  Death's  dark  wings  brooded  o'er, 
A  God-offending  night,  unvisited 
By  sun  or  star,  where  but  the  fatuous  fire 
Of  man's  weak  judgment  wandered,  till  God's  Son 
Laid  o'er  the  black  abyss  a  bridge  of  light, 
And  married  earth  to  the  mainland  of  Heaven  — 
This  shalt  thou  see,  Death's  grave ;  and  over  him, 
And  over  it,  that  monument  of  light, 
Enlightening  earth.     The  gods  and  fiends  of  old, 
And  all  the  fictions  of  the  heart  of  man, 
Imagined  of  the  future  past  for  aye, 
Thou  shalt  inspect.    Behold  this  mountain  !    We 


374  FESTUS. 

Must  pass  through  it;  for  under  lie  the  gates 
Of  the  invisible  regions  whereunto 
We  tend,  for  a  brief  season. 

Festus.  On,  then ! 

Archangel.  Bare 

Thy  marble  breast,  O  mountain,  to  its  depths ! 
An  angel  and  a  man  divine  demand 
A  way  through  these  foundations. 

Festus.  And  the  rocks 

Open  like  mists  before  thee. 

Archangel.  Follow  me ! 


Scene  —  Hades. 
Archangel,  Festus,  Death,  Lucifer. 

Festus.     Almighty  God !  sustain  me.     This  is 

Death ;  — 
And  this  —  I  knew  not,  angel !  he  was  here  — 
Is  Lucifer  —  the  fallen,  like  a  bolt 
Of  thunder  forged  in  intramundane  air, 
Self-buried  in  the  centre.     Lucifer ! 
Wake  from  thy  sea-like  sleep ;  in  peace  or  wrath, 
Rouse    from   thine   age-long  trance;     arise   and 

see; 
The  representatives  of  earth  and  Heaven 
Stand  by  thee.     As  for  me,  I  blame  no  more 
The  part  thou  tookest  in  my  mortal  life ; 
'Tis  gone,  —  nor  spurn  thee  for  delusions  dead. 
The  blood  that  hath  been  spilled  is  sunk  in  earth, 
And  run  into  the  rivers,  and  dried  up 
Into  the  air ;  —  and  there 's  an  end  of  it. 
What  good  hath  come  of  it  alone  I  bear 
At  heart.     And  we  have  both  offended  God. 
Let  me,  though  not  in  nature  to  forget, 
Forgive,  what  every  one  hath  sometime  felt  — 
The  Devil's  burning  gripe  upon  his  heart. 
I  see  thee  with  compassion,  half  with  hope. 


FESTUS.  375 

Lucifer.    Mortal!   I  bow  to  thee,  and  would 
do  to 
The  least  and  lowest  spirit  God  hath  made : 
But  still  the  curse  that  I  am  cursed  with 
Outlasts  the  elements  —  outlives  all  time. 

Festus.     All  curses  cease  with  time ;  all  ill,  all 
woe. 
Blessings  star  forth  forever ;  but  a  curse 
Is  like  a  cloud  —  it  passes. 

Lucifer.  'T  was  by  him  — 

Yon  angel,  only  not  almighty,  there  ! 
As  with  a  chain  of  mountains  I  was  bound 
And  hurled  into  this  unformed  nebulous  life ; 
Stripped  of  all  might  when  mightiest,  struck  down 
While  triumphing  the  loftiest,  —  enslaved 
When  most  a  monarch  o'er  both  earth  and  hell, 
And  made  a  shadow  among  shadows  here. 
It  recks  not.     Let  the  impenetrable  soul 
Be  ground  as  through  a  mill,  I  only  know 
In  action  or  inaction  equal  woe  — 
Suffering,  doing,  being,  one  extreme. 
Pass  on  !  we  meet  again  ! 

Festus.  And  when  we  do, 

May  God  forgive,  as  I !  — 

Archangel.  Behold  there,  Death ! 

Throned  on  his  tomb  —  entombed  in  his  throne ; 
Just  as  he  ceased  he  rests  for  aye  —  his  scythe, 
Still  wet  out  of  its  bloody  swathe,  one  hand 
Tottering  sustains  ;  the  other  strikes  the  cold 
.Drops  from  his  bony  brow  :  his  mouldy  breath 
Tainteth  all  air. 

Festus.  I  dread  him  now  no  more, 

Nor  hate.     Pie  is  a  vanquished  enemy. 

Archangel.     Listen  !  he  speaks. 

Death.  To  you,  ye  sons  of  God, 

My  latest  words  I  utter.     Unto  him 
Who  ever  lives,  and  hath  for  aye  destroyed 
Me  and  my  reign,  give  ye  this  crown  usurped, 
And  lay  it  at  His  feet ;  and  this  dulled  dart 


376  FESTTJ8. 

Which  was  my  sceptre.     To  the  conqueror 

Belong  these  trophies.     All  the  progeny 

Of  time  will  soon  cease.     Lo !  the  end's  at  hand. 

Archangel.     Thus  shall  it  be,  O  Death!  and 
thus  it  is. 

Festus.      And  who   are  these  gigantic  awful 
shades 
Which  fill  the  midst  —  the  present  of  the  place  ? 

Archangel.     These  are  the  mighty  nothings 
man 
Made  ;  the  dread  unrealities  by  whom 
He   swore,   to   whom    he   prayed,   and   at  whose 

shrines  of  old 
He  sacrificed  a  thousand  times  a  day :  — 
His  brother  falsehoods  these,  men  like  himself, 
Which  mere  imagination  changed  to  gods, 
Some  for  their  good  deeds,  others  for  their  bad : 
Bel,  Odin,  Bramh,  and  Zeus,  the  Lords  of  death, 
And  fire,  and  judgment,  waiting  here  their  death 
And  fiery  judgment — Time  and  Titan — war — 
Beauty,   and    strength,   and    light,   and   the   long 

roll 
Of  creatural  powers  and  passions  Deified ;  — 
Who  gave  their  names  to  stars  which  still  roam 

round 
The  skies,  all  worshipless,  even  from  climes 
Where  their  own  altars  once  topped  every  hill. 

Jove.    Before  the  Christian  cross  and  Moslem 
mosque 
My  marble  fanes  have  fallen,  and  my  shrines 
Shrunk  like  a  withered  hand  ages  ago. 
But  now  all  signs  and  sacred  domes  for  gods 
To  dwell  in  are  extinct.     The  world  is  all 
One  Temple  of  the  Truth. 

Bramh.  The  ages  feigned 

That  made  Time  groan  to  think  how  old  he  was, 
And  Deities  in  millions  are  no  more. 
Ageless  eternity  and  God  the  sole, 
The  royalty  of  Heaven,  is  at  hand. 


FESTUS.  377 

Boodh.     All  things  that  are  shall  nothing  be  at 
last, 
Save  what 's  resolvable  in  Deity. 

Festus.     And   all  these  lesser  shades,  which 
move  like  moons, 
Half-darkened  by  the  greater  —  half-illumined  — 
Are  priests  and  prophets  of  the  mightier  ones  ? 

Archangel.     They  are  ;  —  and  further  round 
thine  eye  can  mark, 
The  myriads  of  adorers  of  each  god, 
Confused  and  prostrate,  as  their  souls  awake 
To  the  demoniac  madness  of  their  creeds. 
Behold  !  they  kneel  to  those  they  hailed  on  earth 
As  makers  —  as  omnipotent  —  eterne  — 
And  cry  for  help,  for  comfort ;  none  have  they 
To  give  to  others  or  themselves.     The  false, 
The  base,  the  brutish  Deities  give  way, 
And  all  their  sacred  follies  in  their  train, 
Before  the  earthquake  truth,  engulfing  all. 
Woe  to  the  false  gods,  woe  !  to  prophet,  priest, 
And  worshipper,  all  woe  ! 

Festus.  Hark  !  round  the  earth 

Each  soul  hath  found  a  tongue  and  uttereth  woe. 
Lo  !  from  their  thrones  the  man-made  gods  descend, 
And  rend  their  robes  and  trample  on  their  crowns, 
And  hurl  away  their  sceptres.     Woe  to  all 
The  gods  and  idols  of  the  heart  of  man ! 
Their  sun  is  set  forever  in  the  night 
Which  was  ere  Light  was.     Surely  it  is  more 
To  be  true  man  or  woman  than  false  god 
And  falser  prophet.     God  alone  the  true, 
The  God  of  Heaven,  shall  be  witnessed  to 
And  worshipped. 

Archangel.       Witnessed,  worshipped,  too, 
By  all :  the  faithful  and  the  faithless  —  saint 
And  sinner. 

Festus.  Lo  !  the  nations  of  the  dead, 
Which  do  outnumber  all  earth's  races,  rise, 
And  high  in  sumless  myriads  over  head 


378  FE&TUS. 

Sweep  past  us  in  a  cloud,  as  't  were  the  skirts 
Of  the  Eternal  passing. 

A  voice.  Souls,  arise 

To  deathless  life ! 

Archangel.    'Tis  God  speaks.     Let  us  hence. 
The  general  judgment  is  in  hand,  —  God's  hand. 
The  souls  of  those  whom  God  loves  circle  us. 
For  thee,  thy  lot  thou  knowest.     As  a  seed 
Buried  in  earth  doth  multiply  itself 
Full  fifty  fold,  so  will  thy  nature  when 
Changed,  it  lifts  head  in  the  air  divine  of  Heaven. 

Festus.     Out  of  the  depths  of  earth  and  the 
world's  womb 
Thine  unborn  angels  seek  thee,  God,  all  Love  ! 
Now  is  Thine  hour  for  which  all  hours  were  made, 
All  life  created,  all  things  else  ordained ; 
Be  it  the  hour  of  mercy,  Lord  !  to  all, 
For  Thy  Son's  sake,  who,  for  the  sake  of  man, 
Came  down  from  Heaven  into  the  pit  of  earth, 
And  lived  as  one  of  us  and  died ;  —  •  He  died 
The  death  of  all  at  once  of  every  age  ; 
The  world's  accumulated  weight  of  woe, 
From  its  first  life  unto  its  last,  which  none 
But  the  Omnipotent  could  bear  —  He  bore  ; 
And  all  for  us.     God  became  man  that  man 
Might  become  God.     Oh,  favor  infinite  ! 
"Now  reap  the  righteous,  righteous  but  in  Him 
Any,  their  guerdon.     Evil  to  repay  [Heaven 

With  good  was  Christ's  command,  and  earth  with 
Is  thus  the  great  example  of  His  word. 
Enough  for  sinners  this,  for  all  which  live. 
Do  Thou,  Lord  !  be  with  us.     In  Thee  we  live  ; 
Our  treasure,  trust,  and  triumph  is  in  Thee. 
Behold  the  day  of  our  salvation  come 
Unto  the  countless  all  Thou  hast  redeemed ! 
The  ages  sweep  around  me  with  their  wings 
Like  angered  eagles  cheated  of  their  prey, 
The  ages  of  all  time  :  the  glowing  Heavens 
Are  rushing  to  receive  us.     Oh,  rejoice 


379 


All  ye  that  are  immortal  —  and  whate'er 

Hath  been  predestined  to  eternal  end, 

The  day  determined  ere  all  time  was  dawns  ! 


Scene  —  Earth. 

Angels  and   Saints  —  An  Angel  descending  ; 
Festus. 

Saint.  .  Whence  art  thou  ? 

Angel.     I  ?  from  Heaven,  and  thither  tend  ;  — 
One  moment  here  to  bid  ye  to  prepare. 
Our  Lord  the  Eternal  Son  comes  hither,  girt 
With  His  victorious  hosts,  to  judge  the  world. 

Saint.    What  victory  hath  our  Almighty  gained  ? 

Angel.     One  final,  over  Death  and  Hell.    Shout, 
earth ! 
Thy  freedom  is  accomplished,  and  thy  foes 
Brought  down  to  endless  ruin. 

Saint.  Angel,  speak ! 

We  burn  to  learn  the  tidings  of  this  war, 
Whereof  thou  tell'st,  and  doubtless  wast  a  part. 

Angel.     Hot  from  the  fight  I  come.     This  light/- 
ning  blade 
Hath  holpen  well  to  thin  the  infernal  rout, 
Which  back  hath  fled  to  hell,  howling  like  winds. 
But  let  me,  at  your  will,  ye  peaceful  saints, 
Relate  what  happened  to  us  from  first  to  last. 
The  time  was  come  in  Heaven  when  God  the  Son, 
Bowing  his  head  before  the  Omnipotent, 
Who  doubled  every  blessing  infinite 
Wherewith  he  had  enriched  His  Only  One 
From  first,  rose  from  his  glorious  throne,  and  stepped 
Into  His  sun-bright  car,  calling  aloud 
His  angels  to  attend  Him  while  He  went 
To  judge  the  earth,  as  fore-ordained  of  old: 
That  Heaven  and  earth  might  view  the  majesty 
And  mercy  of  the  God  of  all.    We  came, 


380  FESTUS. 

Selectest  spirits,  countless  —  crowded  bright 

As  the  great  stream  of  stars  which  flows  through 

Heaven 
Fast  by  the  foot  of  God,  each  wave  a  world  — 
Eager  to  the  eye  this  act  of  glory  long 
Talked  of  in  Heaven,  and  now  to  be  achieved. 
Forth  from  the  starry  towers,  and  world-wide  walls, 
Of  Heaven,  we  sat  in  high  and  silent  joy, 
And  journeyed  half  our  way  through  Heaven,  when 

lo ! 
A  sight  which  checked  the  foremost  flaming  ranks, 
That  halted  frontwise,  working  doubt  at  first, 
But  triumph  after.     Shielded  and  drawn  up  close, 
Behind  a  broken  and  decaying  world, 
From  which  the  light  had  vanished  like  the  light 
Out  of  a  death-shrunk  eye,  sat  Lucifer  — 
Midst  in  the  powers  of  darkness,  and  the  hosts 
Of  hell,  enthroned  sublime  ;  and  all  were  still 
As  ambushed  silence  round  the  Foe  of  God. 
But  oh !  how  changed  from  him  we  knew  in  Heaven, 
Whose  brightness  nothing  made  might  match  nor 

mar ; 
Who  rose,  and  it  was  morn  ;  —  who   stretched  his 

wing, 
And  stepped  from  star  to  star;  —  so  changed  he 

showed 
Most  like  a  shadowy  meteor,  through  which 
The  stars  dim  glint — woe-wasted,  pined  with  pain. 
And  by  his  side  there  sat  or  shrank  a  shape 
We  angels  knew  not,  but  the  Son  of  God 
Knew  him,  and  called  him  Death ;  whom,  when  he 

saw, 
Arousing,  after,  out  of  sleep  intense, 
That  unreahned  tyrant  drew  his  mortal  dart, 
And   drave  it  through   himself,  —  a  shade,   shade* 

quelled. 
Then  to  that  chief  of  mischief  and  his  fiends, 
Who,  thick  as  burning  stones  that  from  the  throat 
Of  some  volcano  foul  the  benighted  sky, 


FESTUS.  381 

Shot  up  triumphant  into  air  as  they 

Beheld  our  ranks  move  on,  thus  spake  our  Lord,  — 

Not  wrathfully,  but  sternly  pitying : 

Hell's   wretched    remnant !    wherefore    crouch  ye 

here  ? 
Is  it  to  sue  destruction,  or  to  bar 
My  passage  ?     If  it  be,  in  both  ye  err. 
And  will  ye  trust  yourselves  again  to  war 
With  me,  Almighty  ?     Have  I  not  overcome 
Ye  separately,  both  ?     Speak,  brutal  Death ! 
Fit  follower  and  fellow  to  all  woes,  — 
Wherefore  this  instantaneous  haste  from  hell, 
And  both  from  Hade'an  bondage,  thus  again 
So  soon  to  compass  mightiest  wickedness, 
And  tempt  the  extremest  wrath  ?     Speak,  head  of 

#  hell ! 
To  Him  thus  Lucifer :  Almighty  Son  ! 
Thy  power  I  defy  not ;  but  in  peace 
I  war  with  fate.     My  life  is  to  destroy. 
Evil  hath  more  activity,  if  good 
More  strength  :  and  one  must  wear  the  other  out. 
The  more  august  the  sin,  so  much  the  more 
Is  my  necessity.     Yon  earth  hath  been 
The  battle-plain  of  Heaven  and  hell.     From  Thee, 
Who  knowest  all  things,  it  were  vain  to  hide 
My  purpose,  which  for  a  thousand  years,  the  years 
Of  bondage,  hath  grown  in  me  and  lived  on, 
Toad-like  within  a  rock  —  vital  where  all 
Beside  was  death  —  to  seize  the  nascent  souls 
Of  men  as  they  rerose  from  death  to  life, 
And  sweep  them  off  in  midst  of  all  these  hosts, 
Assembled  for  that  cause  here  as  Thou  seest, 
To  hell ;  —  the  universal  race  of  man. 
But  if  ordained  that  not  on  them,  but  Thee 
And  Thine,  old  hate  shall  satisfy  itself, 
Approach  no  nearer ;  for  we  live  by  death ;  — 
Or  turn  the  tide  of  fate,  Thou  sole  who  canst ! 
Ceasing  thereat,  hjs  host  upraised  a  shout 
Which  shook  the  stars,  and  made  them  ring  again. 


382  f      FESTUS. 

Our  Lord  to  him  then  spake  thus,  mild  as  Spring, 

Addressing  earth  when  smiling  she  lets  fall 

All  flowerets  from  her  lips  —  'Tis  well  there  is  a 

God! 
Lo  !  to  what  base  extremes  infernal  pride 
Can  push  a  princely  spirit  once  in  Heaven. 
Thee  we  will  not  destroy  now,  for  thine  hour 
Hath  yet  to  come  —  when  least  thou  thinkest  it 
God's  wrath  thou  hast  endured  in  punishment. 
Not  yet  His  power.     Away  !     I  warn  ye  hence 
Ere  wrath  ride  forth  again.     To  Him  the  Fiend 
Answered:     God    rules    not    us,    the    unordered 

damned, 
Nor  recks  of  hell.     For  ages  past  belief, 
Unless  by  those  who  like  ourselves  denied 
Thine  own  eternity  —  by  creature  mind, 
However  lofty,  hardly  compassed  —  we 
Have  borne  our  pain  without  remorse,  or  sign 
Of  pity  from  our  Maker.     Shall  we  now 
Believe,  while  thus  confronting  Him  again, 
He  means  us  better  ?     Never  worse  than  now. 
Therefore  I  say  to  ye,  on !  mightiest  fiends, 
On  !     Let  us  reap  companions  for  our  woes, 
Or  earn  annihilation  !     At  the  word, 
His  fiery  phalanx  rushed  to  bar  the  way 
Of  Him  whose  ways  are  over  all  his  works. 
A  million  spears  blazed  forth  their  answer  bright, 
As  of  as  many  tongues.     Serene  our  ranks 
Stood  as  the  stars  o'er  thunder.     God  the  Son 
Sate  in  His  orbed  car,  and  breathed  on  them ; 
And  they  were  rolled  up  like  the  desert  sands 
Before   the   burning  wind,  —  throne   wrecked   on 

throne, 
All  ruined  and  fordone.     Pursue  !  He  cried, 
Nor  let  them  near  the  earth  I  go  to  judge. 
And  we  pursued,  as  many  as  He  chose, 
And  chased  from  sphere  to  sphere  that  wretched 

wreck 
Of  falsest  fiends :  —  and  I,  it  seems,  am  first 


FESTUS.  383 

Of  all  my  victor  brethren  to  declare 

The  triumph  past  arid  coming,  and  to  cheer 

Your  hearts  with  tidings  of  our  Lord,  to  whom 

Be  glory  for  His  universal  deeds, 

And  to  him,  only  God  ! 

Saint.  Behold  where  comes 

Another  warrior-angel  from  on  high  ; 
Like  angels,  always  singly  or  in  hosts. 

Angel.     It  is  the  most  dread  Azrael,  unto  whom 
The  sword  of  Death  is  given  as  a  boon. 

Saint.     What  sayst  thou,  heavenly  one  ? 

Azrael.  To  the  extreme  bound 

Of  Light's  domain  we  chased  the  flying  foe, 
Who  on  the  confines  of  the  lower  air 
Once  rallied  at  their  leader's  stern  command, 
Whom  more  they  fear,  or  seem  to  fear,  than  God. 
They  halted,  formed,  and  faced  us.     I  and  mine, 
As  on  we  came  in  order,  full  career, 
Exalted  by  success,  hoped  ardently 
One  more  convincing  contest ;  but  in  spite 
Of  future  woe  or  the  tempestuous  threats 
Of  the  great  Fiend  who   marshalled  them,  each 

eyed 
His  neighbor  pale  ;  their  trembling  shook  all  air ; 
And  each  one  lift  his  arm,  but  no  one  struck. 
Awhile  in  dead  throe-like  suspense  they  stood, 
Or  like  the  irresolution  of  the  sea 
At  turn  of  tide  —  then  wheeled  and  fled  amain, 
And  in  one  mass  immense  broke  down  from  Heaven, 
Cliff-like ;  —  there   let  them  lie  !    such  fate   have 

fiends. 
And  we  returned,  hoping  to  meet,  as  charge 
To  all  was  given,  the  Lord  our  glory  here. 

Archangel.    Let  all  the  dead  rejoice  !    their 
Saviour  comes. 


884 


Scene  —  The  Judgment  of  Earth. 

The  Son  or   God,  the   Archangel,  Saints, 
and  Angels. 

Archangel.     Let  all  the  dead  rejoice !  their 

Saviour  comes ; 
"With  clouds  of  angels  circled  like  a  sun, 
Belted  with  light,  and  brighter  than  all  light, 
Lo  !  He  descends  and  seats  Him  on  His  throne, 
Alighting  like  a  new  made  sun  in  Heaven. 
The  world  awaits  Thee,  Lord  !     Rise,  souls  of  men, 
Buried  beneath  all  ages  from  the  first ; 
Ye  numbered  and  unnumbered,  loathed  and  loved, 
Awake  to  judgment !     Rise  !  the  grave  no  more 
Hath  power  upon  ye  than  the  ravening  sea 
Upon  the  stars  of  Heaven..    Ye  elements  ! 
Give  back  your  stolen  dead.     He  claimeth  them 
Whose  they  both  were  and  are,  and  aye  shall  be. 

Son  of  God. 
I  come  to  repay  sin  with  holiness, 
And  death  with  immortality ;  man's  soul 
With  God's  Spirit;  all  evil  with  all  good. 
All  men  have  sinned ;  and  as  for  all  I  died, 
All  men  are  saved.     Oh  !  not  a  single  soul 
Less  than  the  countless  all  can  satisfy 
The  infinite  triumph  which  to  me  belongs, 
Who  infinitely  suffered.     Ye  elect ! 
And  all  ye  angels,  with  God's  love  informed, 
Who  reign  with  me  o'er  earth  and  Heaven,  assume 
Your  seats  of  judgment.     Judge  ye  all  in  love, 

The  love  which  God  the  Father  hath  to  you 

For  His  Son's  sake,  and  all  shall  be  forgiven. 
Saints.     Lord !  let  us  render  back  to  Thee  the 

love 
Which  is  Thine  own  :  none  else  is  worthy  Thee. 


FESTUS.  385 

Son  of  God. 
Behold  this  day  I  dwell  with  thee  on  earth, 
E'en  to  the  last ;  the  next  shall  be  in  Heaven, 
Where  ye  shall  meet  the  Father,  and  remain 
In  the  Eternal  presence,  He  through  me 
Blessing  all  spirits  overflowingly. 

Saints.     Dear  Lord,  our  God  and  Saviour !  for 
Thy  gifts 
The  world  were  poor  in  thanks,  though  every  soul 
Were  to  do  nought  but  breathe  them,  every  blade 
Of  grass  and  every  atomy  of  earth 
To  utter  it  like  dew.     Thy  ways  are  plain 
Only  in  Thine  own  light.     And  this  great  day 
Unveils  all  nature's  laws  and  miracles  — 
All  to  Thee  all  as  one.     Thy  death  was  life; 
Thy  judgment  is  all  mercy,  Lord  of  Love  ! 
The  world's  incomprehensible  no  more 
To  man,  but  all  is  bright  as  new-born  star. 

Son  of  God. 
The  Book  of  Life  is  opened.     Heaven  begins. 


Scene  —  The  Heaven  of  Heavens. 

The  Recording  Angel,  Lucifer,  Festus, 
Angels. 

The  Recording  Angel.    All  men  are  judged 
save  one. 

Son  of  God. 

He  too  is  saved. 
Immortal !  I  have  saved  thy  soul  to  Heaven. 
Come  hither.     All  hearts  bare  themselves  to  me, 
As  clouds  unbind  their  bosoms  to  the  sun, 
And  thine  was  wealthy  in  the  gifts  of  good. 
And,  if  its  guilt  and  glory  lay  in  love, 
Let  light  outweigh  the  darkness !     Thou  art  saved. 
Saints.    Rejoice  !    Rejoice ! 
Festus.  Could  I,  Lord !  pour  my  soul  out, 

25 


386  FESTUS. 

In  thanks,  even  as  a  river  rolling  ever, 

*T  would  be  too  scant  for  what  I  owe  to  Thee. 
Son  of  God. 

Nay ;  immortality  is  long  enough, 

As  life,  or  as  a  moment  is,  to  show 

Thy  love  of  good,  thy  thanks  to  me  and  God. 

One  heart-throb  sometimes  earneth  Heaven  —  one 
tear. 
Festus.    My  Maker !    let  me  thank  Thee,  I 
have  lived, 

And  live  a  deathless  witness  of  Thy  grace. 

And  Thee,  the  Holy  One,  who  hast  chosen  me, 

From  old  eternity,  while  yet  I  lay 

Hid,  like  a  thought  in  God,  unuttered  —  Thou, 

Who  makest  finite  full  with  the  Infinite, 

As  is  a  womb  with  an  immortal  spirit, 

Oh  !  let  me  thank  Thee  that  I  witness  to  Thee. 

And  Thou,  mid-God  !  my  Saviour,  and  my  Judge  ! 

Sun  of  the  soul,  whose  day  is  now  all  noon  — 

Who  makest  of  the  universe  one  Heaven  — 

I  praise  Thee.     Heaven  doth  praise  Thee.     God 
doth  praise  Thee. 

The  Holy  Ghost  doth  praise  Thee.     Praise  Thy- 
self! 
Lucifer.     Is  he  not  mine  ? 
God. 

Evil !  away  for  aye ! 

In  the  beginning,  ere  I  bade  things  be  — 

Or  ever  I  begat  the  worlds  on  space, 

I  knew  of  him,  and  saved  him  in  my  Son, 

Who  now  hath  judged ;  for,  fraught  with  God-hood, 
He 

Yet  feels  the  frailties  of  the  things  He  has  made  ; 

And  therefore  can,  like-feelingly,  judge  them. 

For  I  abide  not  sin  ;  and  in  my  Son 

There  is  no  sin  —  not  that  He  takes  away. 

It  is  destroyed  forever  and  made  nothing. 
Son  of  God. 

Spirit,  depart !  this  mortal  loved  me. 


FESTUS.  387 

With  all  his  doubts,  he  never  doubted  God : 

But  from   doubt  gathered  truth,  like  snow  from 

clouds, 
The  most,  and  whitest,  from  the  darkest.     Go  ! 
Lucifer.    I  leave  thee,  Festus.     Here  thou 

wilt  be  happy. 
To  be  in  Heaven  is  to  love  forever 
God  —  and  thou  must  love  here.     Here  thou  wilt 

find 
All  that  thou  canst  and  oughtst  to  love :  for  souls, 
Re-made  of  God,  and  moulded  over  again 
Into  his  sun-like  emblems,  multiply 
His   might    and    love :    the   saved   are   suns,   not 

earths ; 
And  with  original  glory  shine  of  God. 
While  I  shall  keep  on  deepening  in  my  darkness, 
With  not  one  gleam  across  the  gloom  of  being. 
Festus.     Let  us  part,  spirit !  it  may  be,  in  the 

coming, 
That  as  we  sometime  were  all  worth  God's  making, 
We  may  be  worth  forgiving ;  taking  back 
Into  His  bosom,  pure  again  —  and  then, 
All  shall  be  one  with  Him,  who  is  one  in  all. 

Lucifer.     It  may  be,  then,  that  I  shall  die. 

Farewell. 
Forgive  me  that  I  tempted  thee  ! 

Festus.  I  am  glad. 

Gop. 
Stay,  spirit !  all  created  things  unmade 
It  suits  not  the  eternal  laws  of  good 
That  Evil  be  immortal.     In  all  space 
Is  joy  and  glory,  and  the  gladdened  stars, 
Exultant  in  the  sacrifice  of  sin, 
And  of  all  human  matter  in  themselves, 
Leap  forth  as  though  to  welcome  earth  to  Heaven—' 
Leap  forth  and  die.     All  nature  disappears. 
Shadows  are  passed  away.     Through  all  is  light. 
Man  is  as  high  above  temptation  now,  — 


388  FESTUS. 

And  where  by  Grace  he  alway  shall  remain 

As  ever  sun  o'er  sea ;  and  sin  is  burned 

In  hell  to  ashes  with  the  dust  of  death. 

The  worlds  themselves  are  but  as  dreams  within 

Their  souls  who  lived  in  them,  and  thou  art  null, 

And  thy  vocation  useless,  gone  with  them. 

Therefore  shall  Heaven  rejoice  in  thee  again. 

And  the  lost  tribes  of  angels,  who  with  thee 

Wedded  themselves  to  woe,  and  all  who  dwell 

Around  the  dizzy  centres  of  all  worlds, 

Again  be  blessed  with  the  blessedest. 

Lo  !  ye  are  all  restored,  rebought,  rebrought 

To  Heaven  by  Him  who  cast  ye  forth,  your  God. 

Receive  ye  tenfold  of  all  gifts  and  powers. 

And  thou   who  cam'st  to   Heaven  to  claim  one 

soul, 
Remain  possessed  by  all.     The  sons  of  bliss 
Shall  welcome  thee  again,  and  all  thy  hosts, 
Whereof  thou  first  in  glory  as  in  woe  — 
In  brightness  as  in  darkness  erst  —  shall  shine. 
( Take,  Lucifer,  thy  place.     This  day  art  thou 
'  Redeemed  to  archangelic  state.     Bright  child 
Of  morning,  once  again  thou  shinest  fair 
O'er  all  the  starry  ornaments  of  light. 

Lucifer.     The  highest  and  the  humblest  I  of 
all 
The  beings  Thou  hast  made,  Eternal  Lord  ! 

Angel.    Behold  they  come,  the  Legions  of  the 
lost, 
Transformed  already  by  the  bare  behest 
Of  God  our  Maker  to  the  purest  form 
Of  seraph  brightness. 

The    restored    Angels.      His    be    all    the 
praise ! 
And  ours  submissive  thanks.    When  evil  had  done 
Its  worst,  then  God  most  blessed  us  and  forgave. 
Oh,  He  hath  triumphed  over  all  the  world, 
In  mercy,  over  death,  and  earth,  and  hell ! 


FESTUS.  889 

Son  of  God. 
All  God  hath  made  are  saved.     Heaven  is  com- 
plete. 
Guardian  Angel.     Hither  with  me ! 
Festus.  But  where  are  those  I  love? 

Angel.    Yon  happy  troop ! 
Festus.  Ah !  blest  ones,  come  to  me ! 

Loves  of  my  heart,  on  earth ;  and  soul  in  Heaven  ! 
Are  ye  all  here,  too,  with  me  ? 
All.  All. 

Festus.  It  is  Heaven. 

Angel.     Come,  let  us  join  our  souls  into  the 
song 
Of  glory,  which  the  Saved  all  sing,  to  God. 

The  Saved.    Father  of  goodness, 
Son  of  love, 
Spirit  of  comfort, 
Be  with  us ! 
God  who  hast  made  us, 
God  who  hast  saved, 
God  who  hast  judged  us, 
Thee  we  praise. 
Heaven  our  spirits, 
Hallow  our  hearts ; 
Let  us  have  God-light 
Endlessly. 

Ours  is  the  wide  world, 
Heaven  on  Heaven ; 
•  What  have  we  done,  Lord, 
Worthy  this  ? 
Oh !  we  have  loved  Thee ; 
That  alone 
Maketh  our  glory, 
Duty,  meed. 

Oh !  we  have  loved  Thee  1 
Love  we  will, 
Ever,  and  every 
Soul  of  us. 


390  FESTUS. 

God  of  the  saved, 
God  of  the  tried, 
God  of  the  lost  ones, 
Be  with  all ! 
Let  us  be  near  Thee 
Ever  and  aye ; 
Oh  !  let  us  love  Thee 
Infinite  J 

Festus.     So,  soul  and  song,  begin  and  end  in 
Heaven, 
Your  birth-place  and  your  everlasting  home. 

The  Holy  Ghost. 
Time  there  hath  been  when  only  God  was  all ; 
And  it  shall  be  again.     The  hour  is  named, 
When  seraph,  cherub,  angel,  saint,  man,  fiend, 
Made  pure,  and  unbelievably  uplift 
Above  their  present  state  —  drawn  up  to  God, 
Like  dew  into  the  air  —  shall  be  all  Heaven ; 
And  all  souls  shall  be  in  God,  and  shall  be  God, 
And  nothing  but  God,  be. 

Son  of  God. 

Let  all  be  God's. 
God. 
World  without  end,  and  I  am  God  alone  ; 
The  Aye,  the  Infinite,  the  Whole,  the  One. 
I  only  was  —  nor  matter  else,  nor  mind, 
The  self-contained  Perfection  unconfined. 
I  only  am  —  in  might  and  mercy  one ; 
I  live  in  all  things  and  am  closed  in  none.  , 
I  only  shall  be  —  when  the  worlds  have  done, 
My  boundless  Being  will  be  but  begun. 


I/ENVOI. 

Head  this,  world !  He  who  writes  is  dead  to  thee, 
But  still  lives  in  these  leaves.  He  spake  inspired : 
Night  and  day,  thought  came  unhelped,  undesired, 

Like  blood  to  his  heart.     The  course  of  study  he 

Went  through  was  of  the  soul-rack.     The  degree 
He  took  was  high :  it  was  wise  wretchedness. 
He  suffered  perfectly,  and  gained  no  less 

A  prize  than,  in  his  own  torn  heart,  to  see 

A  few  bright  seeds:   he   sowed  them  —  hoped 
them  truth. 

The  autumn  of  that  seed  is  in  these  pages. 

God  was  with  him,  and  bade  old  Time,  to  the  youth, 

Unclench  his  heart,  and  teach  the  book  of  ages. 
Peace  to  thee,  world !  —  farewell !    May  God  the 
Power, 

And  God  the  Love !  —  and  God  the  Grace,  be  ours 

(391; 


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